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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24660922">An Unkindness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatWylder/pseuds/KatWylder'>KatWylder</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Halo (Video Games) &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(More detailed CWs in the notes before chapters as needed), Alien Culture, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Gen, Post-Covenant War, Worldbuilding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:33:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24660922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatWylder/pseuds/KatWylder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war may be over, but the galaxy is still a dangerous place. Old feuds and new wars erupt among both humanity and the remains of the Covenant, and piracy abounds.</p><p>For a hired gun like Klik, solving other people's problems is a way of life. Amidst the chaos, there's money to be made for those who have the right kind of skills—but kindness doesn't pay.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  A Sangheili would have shot it. A Jiralhanae would have eaten it. She simply watched it.</p><p>  She hadn’t seen a hatchling of this species before. This one had the same wide, bulging eyes and ugly, pushed-in snout as the rest of its kind. It was rummaging through the debris, turning over bits and pieces of garbage with its stubby little fingers. Suddenly, it stopped, turned abruptly and jammed its arm into a different pile of garbage. Moments later, the hatchling let out a squeal and yanked its arm back out, with a wriggling insect clenched in its grubby fist. It flashed teeth and bit into the insect.</p><p>  Her inner eyelid closed briefly and she exhaled, watching the hatchling through her rifle’s sight. Then she pulled back on the trigger. There was a flash of pink and a horrible little animal shriek. The hatchling scrambled away on all fours as a Jirlhanae crashed to the ground just a quill’s breadth away, with a needle through his eye socket.</p><p>  The scream of the hatchling alerted his two packmates. They poked their heads out from the ruined structure they were searching. One bashed open what must have once been a door, and was half-way through it when another one of her needles caught him in the neck. He collapsed, choking on blood. The third bellowed and looked around, then set his sights on the hatchling as it scrambled to hide under the wreckage of a vehicle. He leveled his spiker at the scrap heap.</p><p>  She whistled, shrill and sharp, and he turned toward her position with a roar. A half second was all the time he had before she put a needle through his open mouth.</p><p>  After allowing a few moments to let the dust settle—and check that there were no reinforcements—Klik slung her Type-31 over her back and picked her way down from the roof of the building she had chosen as a perch. She half-trotted, half-hopped across the rubble and debris to the corpse of the first target, and pulled out her knife. This was the part she hated the most. So much work. Her employer required proof of the kill, however, and this was easier than lugging back the entire body. After a few minutes of silently cursing to herself, she finished hacking off one of the Jiralhanae’s fingers and slipped it into the watertight pack she kept for just such necessities. She repeated the procedure on the other two, then began the much more rewarding task of searching them for spare gekz, ammunition, and valuables.</p><p>  Klik heard a creaking noise from her right, and puffed up her feathers. The human hatchling had finally crawled out from under the wreckage. It was even filthier now, covered in soot and grease, and spattered with red-purple Jiralhanae blood. She watched it from the corner of her eye as it slowly crept nearer.</p><p>  &lt;You shouldn’t be so loud,&gt; she said.</p><p>  It stopped about a stone’s throw away, and watched her. When she turned her head, it flinched, but didn’t run. It kept its eyes fixed on her, and reached down into the debris, feeling around until it found the bug it had caught earlier. It resumed eating, sitting in a crouch, and watched her with those wild, overly-big eyes.</p><p>  She didn’t know much about human young. Didn’t know how they grew up, what they ought to look like, or even how old this one might be. But she was fairly certain they weren’t supposed to be so… skinny.</p><p>  A Sangheili would have shot it. A Jiralhanae would have eaten it. Klik he reached into her pack—slowly—and tossed a fruit to it.</p><p>  The hatchling froze, glancing between her and the fruit. The gangly little thing’s eyes were probably bigger than its stomach. Finally, its hunger won out over its fear. It pounced on the fruit and gobbled it up in as few bites as possible.</p><p>  &lt;Where is your nest?&gt; She couldn’t help but feel that a human’s eyes shouldn’t be sunken so far into its already-flat face. &lt;Your parents?&gt;</p><p>  It wiped a hand across its mouth, then licked the fruit juice off its hand, and said nothing.</p><p>  Of course. There was little chance it spoke any Kig-Yar dialect. &lt;Do you speak Sangheili?&gt; she tried in that language.</p><p>  It cringed and moved half a step back.</p><p>  What was the name of the human tongue she had learned? Ah, right. “Een-liss?” she asked. “Speaking Een-liss, you?”</p><p>  The hatchling’s eyes widened further, which she hadn’t thought possible. She wasn’t entirely sure of its expression. Humans had such mushy features, it was difficult to discern their emotions some times. It nodded slowly, which was something she did recognize.</p><p>  “Alone?” she asked.</p><p>  Another nod.</p><p>  She honestly hadn’t expected any differently. There was nothing left here but graves and ruin. Most of the planet was glass, and the humans’ most recent attempt to return—a tiny outpost not far from here—had been bombed off the map a few months earlier. The hatchling must have been on its own since then.</p><p>  Klik felt around in her pack for her last piece of fruit, and set it on the ground. Then she stood, tucked the spoils of her mission into her pockets, and walked back toward her ship.</p><p>* * *</p><p>  <em>Calamity’</em><em>s</em> sublight engines hummed as Klik slid her claws across the display and eased the throttle forward. The shuttle rose from the glass and popped its wings open like a beetle before climbing into the murky sky. She was glad to be leaving.</p><p>  Leaving and, her growling stomach reminded her, getting <em>paid</em>. If she was careful with her rations, she would be in good shape until reaching the next supply depot. Otherwise, she’d have to start gnawing on those fingers she had collected. Klik unhooked the sealed pack from her belt and tossed it into the back of the cabin in disgust. She fluffed her feathers and clacked her beak, reassuring herself. Everything would be fine. She knew how to stretch a meal.</p><p>  <em>If you’re so worried about food, why did you give yours to that human?</em></p><p>  She puffed up again and blinked her inner eyelids twice. That really hadn’t been a smart thing to do. She couldn’t just <em>give</em> food away to every sad-looking alien she met. The whole galaxy was falling apart—everyone looked sad right now, even the Unggoy.</p><p>  Maybe in some strange way, it had reminded her of a newborn Kig-Yar chick. Scrawny and featherless. Helpless.</p><p>  There was no use dwelling on the matter. She had done what she had done. Now she was going to leave this glass ball and get her money and find her next contract. The hatchling would go on doing… whatever human hatchlings did. Maybe some others humans would find it, soon. Come back to check on their outpost, find the hatchling, and take it back to its nest where it belonged.</p><p>  <em>No one is coming for that thing, and you know it.</em></p><p>  She let off the controls as <em>Calamity</em> slipped through the whorling grey clouds into the stratosphere. It slowed to a stop and drifted in the green-blue haze that hung just below open space. She leaned back in her seat. It would take just minutes to reach her exit point from this system. She needed to leave soon, before more Jiralhanae showed up, before they spotted her ship. <em>Calamity</em> didn’t have cloaking, and it was completely unarmed. Her only defense was speed. Yet here she was sitting still, out in the open, wasting time. Time was one thing she could never afford to waste.</p><p>  Klik hit the controls again and gunned the throttle, cursing herself every second.</p><p>* * *</p><p>  There was a crunch as her feet hit the glass. She didn’t bother with stealth, now. <em>Calamity’s</em> entrance had been too loud for that.</p><p>  “Human!” she called out in Een-liss. “Hey!”</p><p>  There was no response. No sound at all but the distant howl of wind through the glyph canyons. Had the hatchling wandered off already? Or had something else happened to it? She didn’t have time to search. Klik tilted her head and scratched behind her jaw impatiently.</p><p>  “Hello?” she tried again. Klik wracked her brain for more vocabulary. It was hard to think in an alien language when she was agitated. “You hello? Here?”</p><p>  Something rustled on the ground behind her, and she wheeled around, pistol up and feathers fluffed to their fullest extent. A pair of big, white-rimmed eyes stared back at her from a grimy face. Klik lowered her crest and sighed out a relieved <em>quuuooorak</em>. It seemed the human could be quiet, after all.</p><p>  “Good. Being here.”</p><p>  The hatchling looked up at her, then fixed its eyes on the pouch where she had (until recently) kept her fruit.</p><p>  “Yes, yes. Food. Wanting food?”</p><p>  It nodded.</p><p>  “Then here.” She pointed with her beak toward the door of <em>Calamity</em>. That just got another glassy stare. Maybe humans were like Sangheili, and didn’t understand beak-speak. “Here,” she repeated, and gestured instead with her hand.</p><p>  This time, the hatchling followed with its eyes, but didn’t budge from its position.</p><p>  “Food. Here. Fast going!” she insisted. &lt;<em>Rrrak!</em> How can I make you understand?&gt;</p><p>  A soft, all-too-familiar whir of engines carried over the wind, and she looked back to see the silhouette of a <em>Spirit</em> drawing closer. Time was up.</p><p>  The hatchling was looking past her, trying to see what had caught her attention. She grabbed it. With one arm around its bony torso, and the other under the back of its gangly stick-legs, she leapt up the ramp and back into her ship. The hatchling shrieked, perhaps in surprise, perhaps in fear, and kicked at her. She didn’t stop, didn’t even let go of it until she was at the console and finally needed a hand free to slap the door controls closed.</p><p>  It scrambled away, and she grabbed it again and hauled it up into one of the passenger seats. It shrieked again and started babbling something at her as she snapped its seat harness on and locked. If it was speaking Een-liss, the words were too fast and jumbled to make any sense. The hatchling lashed out, grabbed onto her crest and <em>yanked</em>. She hissed, and it instantly let go, though it had managed to pull out three or four feathers, their tips bloody.</p><p>  Klik warbled to herself and pressed her feathers flat to her body as she trotted back to the controls. “Fast going,” she said, snapping on her own harness. She slapped the throttle to maximum “<em>Now</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  &lt;Is it done?&gt;</p><p>  Klik held the severed fingers up in front of the screen, then laid them on the ship’s scanner. &lt;As instructed.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Good. One less annoyance in the galaxy.&gt; The Sangheili clicked his mandibles in a short, satisfied pattern. &lt;You’ll have your payment then, mercenary. ‘Sukam, out.&gt;</p><p>  As far as the four-jaws went, N’thul ‘Sukam was one of the easier ones to work with. He clearly didn’t think too well of Kig-Yar, but he understood the value of her skills and didn’t muddy business with his own opinions. And most importantly, he paid on time.</p><p>  Klik looked down at her data module: 900 gekz released from escrow into her account, and not a moment too soon. She hopped out of her chair and paced back through the shuttle. First thing she needed was fuel, then food, and then—</p><p>  She glanced back at the human hatchling. <em>Then I need to get rid of this thing. Somehow</em>.</p><p>  It was sleeping. Finally. It had cried and wailed for a solid hour before tiring itself out. She shook out her feathers and clacked her beak in thought. Where did one take stray humans? Nearest human colony, perhaps? There were a few human settlements she could think of where she wouldn’t be shot on sight. They weren’t terribly <em>safe</em> places, true—but the galaxy wasn’t a terribly safe place to begin with.</p><p>  The more pressing matter was how to keep it alive until then. She had already trawled through everything she could find on her data module, but there was little information available and much of it was either speculative or conflicting. The Covenant had never wanted to know anything about humans except how to kill them. She had even seen people punished for trying to learn more about the so-called heathens.</p><p>  She cleaned off the scanner and brought up the local star chart. She had planned to resupply at Unza’u Station, but that was before she acquired a passenger. As she studied the chart, she heard a whimper behind her. Klik turned to see the hatchling sitting up, looking around Calamity’s interior with those wide, fearful eyes. She slid out of her seat and walked over to it slowly.</p><p>  “Hello,” she said softly, and crouched to meet its eye level. &lt;I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry that I grabbed you. That probably hurt. You must be very confused. But we ran out of time.&gt;</p><p>  It slapped her across the beak with all the force of a falling leaf. Then it quickly tucked its arms back in and began to make little sobbing noises as its face grew red.</p><p>  &lt;I suppose I deserved that.&gt; She flattened her plumage to give it less opportunity to grab at her. “Don’t hurting. Yes?”</p><p>  Something changed in the human’s expression, and she hoped that it was a glimmer of understanding. She reached out slowly for the harness lock. The hatchling winced and tried to pull away from her, but didn’t lash out this time.</p><p>  “Good, good,” she assured it with a soft <em>kworrk</em>. &lt;If only you could understand my language.&gt;</p><p>  It remained frozen in place for a moment after she unlatched the harness. Then it shoved past her and bolted for the door. Klik just sat back on her haunches as she watched it scrabble at <em>Calamity’s</em> hatch. After apparently deciding that was futile, the hatchling began roaming around the ship, looking for anything that might be a door.</p><p>  “Can’t out,” she said. &lt;We’re in slipspace.&gt;</p><p>  Her words didn’t seem to have any effect, and the hatchling continued its panicked exploration. Fortunately, she had taken the opportunity to secure anything fragile or dangerous while it slept. She didn’t know much about humans, but she surmised that the young of all species were equally good at getting into things they shouldn’t.</p><p>  After a few minutes, it finally seemed to accept that it wasn’t getting out of the ship. It sat down in the furthest corner it could find and wrapped its arms around itself. She remained where she was, content to let it have some space, and studied its appearance a little more. Beneath the grime, its skin was a pale pinkish color, almost like the inner eyelids of some Ruuhtians. Scrapes crisscrossed its hands, feet, knees, and elbows, and purple splotches peppered its skin. She wasn’t sure if human young were supposed to have spots like that or if those were blemishes. Its brown fur hung down around its bony shoulders in oily, matted strands. Tiny insects crawled over its scalp.</p><p>  <em>Pitiful thing.</em></p><p>  She pointed to herself. “Name of Klik.”</p><p>  A whimper was the only reply at first. She decided to keep talking. Perhaps the sound of a familiar language—even poorly spoken—might provide it some comfort.</p><p>  “<em>Nej nej</em>. Am having…” She paused, trying to recall the vocabulary. “<em>Sorry</em>. Don’t want to giving fear. Jiralhanae are almost finding. Are want to hurting human.”</p><p>  The thin strips of fur over its eyes scrunched together. “Chee...rall-hana…?”</p><p>  “Brute. Brutes hurting humans.”</p><p>  It nodded.</p><p>  “Am don’t speaking many Een-lish. Difficult,” she continued. “But. Don’t hurting human. This is… pro-mees? Promise! Promise to don’t hurting. Have sorry for fear. Human is being safe now, yes.”</p><p>  She doubted that the hatchling believed her, if it even understood her at all. She wouldn’t have, in the same position. Klik stood and paced over to her food stores. For now, all she could do was guess about its diet. They didn’t look like predators of any competence, but she was certain she seen humans eat meat as well as fruits.</p><p>  Klik returned with a canteen in her hands and a strip of dried <em>colo</em> in her beak, and set them down in front of the hatchling. She made an encouraging chortle, as she would to the young of her own kind, then moved back. “Food, yes, yes.”</p><p>  At first, the hatchling remained still, its eyes darting between her and the food nervously. It was probably spooked from the last time she had offered it anything. She moved back to the other end of <em>Calamity’s</em> bay, blinking, and sat down. Predictably, hunger won out over fear, and the hatchling seized the dried meat.</p><p>  She let it finish eating, then chortled to it again. “What name of?”</p><p>  It pushed some of its greasy fur away from its face and frowned. “Huh?”</p><p>  “Name of you?” She gestured to it with her beak, then remembered better and pointed with a claw.</p><p>  It made another expression she didn’t understand. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”</p><p>  She tilted her head. “<em>Chrrr-rrok.</em> Also being the strange, you,” she replied. “Water there, yes.”</p><p>  It took the canteen and drank.</p><p>  “Belonging where? Will taking to…” She realized she didn’t know their word for a clan territory. “To—<em>ik-wez</em>—belong place of you. Yes, yes.”</p><p>  The little hatchling grasped the canteen and seemed to puzzle over her words. “Home?”</p><p>  “Yes, taking to home. Where being?” <em>This is getting exhausting. For both of us.</em></p><p>  It fell silent again, then closed its eyes and hugged itself tighter, beginning to shake. Its pale skin flushed red and clear liquid streamed out of its eyes while little choked sounds escaped it. She squawked and stood to rush over, then quickly reminded herself that having something her size lunge at it probably wouldn’t help the situation. She approached with a measured pace, warbling the calming tune for unmolted hatchlings. She had never seen this reaction from a human, but she expected it wasn’t good.</p><p>  “Have hurt?” she asked. She couldn’t help but let out a low note of worry. “Is— is hurt where? Will trying to fix. How can stopping the face leak?”</p><p>  The hatchling just shook its head and shuddered harder, its choking sounds now a piercing wail. It didn’t look injured, which was good. If this was caused by some illness, however, she hadn’t the faintest idea how to treat it.</p><p>  Klik crouched down beside the hatchling, brood-like, and resumed. At this point, it was all she could think to do.</p><p>  &lt;Look up at the sky, see bright Chu'ot up above. Look up at the sky, see all the sparkling stars.&gt; Slowly, carefully, she extended an arm over it, covering it with her feathers. &lt;Now sleep, dear one, sleep. And nest in Chu'ot's clouds. Now sleep, dear one, sleep. And count the endless stars.&gt;</p><p>  The shuddering and wailing subsided gradually, and the hatchling looked up at her with wet eyes, the whites of them reddened and the surrounding skin puffy. That seemed unhealthy.</p><p>  “What are you doing?” it asked, wiping its fist across its face. Mucous leaked from its nose.</p><p>  “Am singing. This being sing for baby.”</p><p>  “I’m <em>not</em> a baby.” It sounded petulant. “I’m ten years old.”</p><p>  “Hm. Ten is not being baby? Don’t knowing this about humans.”</p><p>  “No, I’m almost grown-up.”</p><p>  She doubted that. “Okay. Not baby. Now—having hurt in eyes? How can helping this?” Klik lowered her head and peered more closely at it. “Face-leaking is sickness?”</p><p>  “I’m not hurt. I’m— I’m just crying.” It shied away from her gaze.</p><p>  She clacked her beak softly. “Don’t knowing this ‘crying.’”</p><p>  “It’s…” This hatchling was quiet for a moment, then the eye-water and shuddering started up again. “I want to go <em>home!</em>”</p><p>  Again, not knowing any better way to help, Klik began preening its fur. At least picking the insects out would keep her own stomach settled til her next ration. “Will try taking to place of safe.”</p><p>  After more preening and a lot of crying, the hatchling finally settled down. “Thanks.”</p><p>  It was leaning against her, now, huddled under her feathers, and she realized suddenly that it must be cold. The fabric around its body looked torn and frayed. She fluffed out her plumage to offer better warmth.</p><p>  “Your name is Klik, right?”</p><p>  “Yes.”</p><p>  “I’m Venka.” It huddled down a little more. “Um, Venka Floros.”</p><p>  “Venka-um-vekaforos,” she repeated. “Yes, okay.”</p><p>  “No… Just,” it wavered, “Venka.”</p><p>  “<em>K</em><em>worrk.</em> Telling about Venka?”</p><p>  “Uh, I’m in primary four. And my pronouns are she/her. And my favorite color is red, and I like to swim.”</p><p>  <em>Ah, pronouns</em>, she reminded herself. That was important to humans. Her own dialect had dropped such words long ago, and that alien bit of grammar often escaped her memory.</p><p>  “Where being home?”</p><p>  Venka reached for the canteen and took a long drink. She had probably lost a lot of water from all that <em>crying</em> business. “We used to live on Troy. It’s gone, now.”</p><p>  <em>Gone</em>? So, she couldn’t take the hatchling—Venka—back to her clan’s nest, either. That was going to complicate things.</p><p>  “How come you’re nice?” she asked suddenly. “Everyone says aliens are mean.”</p><p>  “Venka being alien.”</p><p>  “No, I’m human.”</p><p>  “Human is being alien to <em>Kig-Yar</em>.”</p><p>  “Huh. I guess so.”</p><p>  Klik continued preening Venka’s fur, and the hatchling slowly began to drift off to sleep once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <em>Content warning for mentions of inter-species slavery and cannibalism.</em>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Two Days Later</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  Klik shook the red, gritty dust off her feet as she stepped inside the shop. It was dimly lit inside and sparse, only recently carved out of the cliff side. She didn’t like being in such a tight space, but she didn’t care to hang around outside, either. This was only the second time she had been to this planet, and already there a dozen new rock-cut dens. Ven III was getting crowded.</p><p>  &lt;Ah! Huntress!&gt; An Ibie’shan greeted her as she entered what passed as a foyer. &lt;Haven’t seen you in quite awhile, ma’am. Shall I inform Mistress Ytrek that you’re here?&gt;</p><p>  Klik wasn’t close with Neb Ytrek either personally or professionally. She didn’t have much use for slavers nor they for her, but she had been contracted to knock off one of Neb’s rivals a few months ago. That had put her in good enough standing with Neb to be welcome here.</p><p>  &lt;No, thank you, Lur. I don’t wish to take any of her time, today. I just need some information.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Information? We don’t normally—&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I’ll pay for it.&gt;</p><p>  Lur’s quills turned yellow and he turned his head as a riveted look sparked in his eye. &lt;I’m sure we can help each other out. What do you need, ma’am?&gt;</p><p>  She cast a quick look about as Lur retrieved his data module, making sure that no one was within earshot. &lt;I need to know how to keep a human alive.&gt;</p><p>  His quills flattened and his posture became closed, timid. &lt;I don’t know that Mistress will like you asking about that sort of thing.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;<em>One</em> human. Singular.&gt; She eased her own posture to reassure him. &lt;I’m not looking to build my nest against Ytrek’s. Too much overhead in slaving.&gt;</p><p>  Lur gave an unconvinced warble.</p><p>  &lt;Besides, I know what happens to her competitors: people like <em>me</em>.&gt;</p><p>  Lur crouched a little lower and expanded his quills in a defensive puff. Ibie’shan plumage was so sparse that he just looked comical—like a lizard stuck full of <em>tel’ut</em> tree spines. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. &lt;Just one, you say?&gt;</p><p>  She pressed two 100 gekz tokens into his hand.</p><p>  Lur bobbed his head in a smile. &lt;Well then. I would be glad to assist.&gt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  &lt;May I ask your interest in this information, ma’am?&gt; Lur trailed along after her up <em>Calamity’s</em> ramp.</p><p>  &lt;No. You may not.&gt; Klik paused at the hatch. &lt;Be quiet.&gt;</p><p>  She didn’t like bringing anyone aboard, and she wasn’t keen to let it be known that she had a human hatchling. Unfortunately, Lur was as near to an expert as she was going to find on short notice. Half of the money would buy his information, and the other half would buy his silence. The unspoken threat of being shot in his sleep if he squawked about this didn’t hurt, either.</p><p>  The hatch opened with a click and a sigh, and the interior lights went up dimly. Lur stepped inside, then glanced about in confusion. &lt;I smell something, but I don’t see it.&gt;</p><p>  Klik padded over to the makeshift nest on the shuttle’s bench, and pulled back one of the blankets gently. Venka was sound asleep, her wiry little arms and legs curled into a tight ball.</p><p>  Lur sniffed the air a few times as he looked the human over. &lt;Oh.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;What?&gt; Klik demanded in a low croak.</p><p>  He cocked his head to meet her eye. &lt;That thing’s never going to survive. It’s half-starved, and probably full of parasites.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I only need to care for it a short while.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;You want to care for it? Then put it out of its misery.&gt; He warbled raspily. &lt;One less mouth to feed. And if you’re <em>really</em> hungry…&gt;</p><p>  While other species in the Covenant had looked down on the Kig-Yar as “filthy scavengers,” Klik considered their diet a matter of pride. Yes, they were scavengers—and they were damned good at it. They wasted nothing, not even bone.</p><p>  She had never eaten a human, though, no matter how hungry she had gotten. Not even when the starving Unggoy around her were glutting themselves on the battlefield dead, and Jirlhanae were tearing into live prisoners. Not even when her own kind were doing the same. It wasn’t out of any particular respect for her then-enemies or fear of sullying herself with the flesh of heathens. Carrion was a natural part of her species’ diet; and dead meat was dead meat.</p><p>  What kept her from it was the realization that <em>Sangheili</em> never ate humans. Not live, not dead, not breaded and fried. Maybe they simply thought they were too good for that sort of thing. But she always wondered if perhaps the Sangheili knew something that the rest of them didn’t. Maybe there was a good reason to abstain.</p><p>  &lt;I could have come to that conclusion myself.&gt; She puffed out her throat feathers irritably. &lt;But that’s not what I asked you, and that’s not what I <em>paid</em> for.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;You’re making a mistake, ma’am.&gt;</p><p>  Klik turned and hissed at him, then snapped her beak in front of his snout. &lt;That’s not your concern.&gt;</p><p>  Lur hopped back, puffing up again. &lt;Very well.&gt; Resigned, he tapped at his data module. Her own blinked shortly after it. &lt;I’ve sent you everything we’ve compiled about human health and feeding. <em>Kurr-rr-rr</em>. Where did you even find this thing?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Again, <em>not</em> your concern.&gt; She let her beak gape open, showing her teeth. Lur averted his eyes to his data module, and she stepped back. &lt;How old do you estimate this one to be? In our terms.&gt; <em>Ten years old</em> didn’t mean much to her without a point of comparison.</p><p>  Lur eyed her carefully and then took two steps closer to Venka, tilting his head this way and that. &lt;Hard to tell, since it’s so malnourished. Definitely a juvenile.&gt; He clucked his tongue softly. &lt;If it were a Kig-Yar, I would say it’s a nestling past its second molt. It has a few years to go before it becomes a <em>mik-ti</em>.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;So she’s going to be rather helpless for a long time.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Mostly, yes. Apparently, even after their first <em>mik-ti</em> stage—I think it’s called <em>teenjurs</em>?—humans require another year or two before they’re fully independent. Bit of a wonder their species has lasted so long!&gt;</p><p>  That was just depressing to think about. &lt;She needs clothing.&gt;</p><p>  Lur made a displeased <em>tchk-tchk-tchk</em> in the back of his throat. &lt;Mistress only deals in adults. Captured soldiers, you know. We don’t have anything small enough.&gt; He backed away as Venka shifted in her sleep, then turned and made his way out the door. &lt;We’ve nothing more to offer you, ma’am. I’ll let you know if Mistress Ytrek has any bounties in the future.&gt;</p><p>Klik watched the ship’s door close behind him and shook out her feathers, feeling strangely restless. Maybe he was right. Maybe the little human’s chances were slim. But she’d sooner bathe in tar than let some slaver’s lackey tell her what to do. Even if this was a mistake—and it probably was—it would be <em>her</em> mistake.</p><p>  She turned back around to see Venka sitting up in the nest of blankets, staring at her.</p><p>  It was difficult to tell if she had awoken in distress or if she was simply done resting. Did humans dream? Did they have nightmares? Or did they simply fall into an empty torpor like the Yonhet? Venka slept a lot, often twitching in her sleep. Klik wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, if it was a sleep of recovery, or if it was a result of illness and fatigue. Hopefully, Lur’s data would give her a better idea.</p><p>  “Don’t sleeping now?”</p><p>  Venka shook her head.</p><p>  Klik walked over and nipped a few more bugs out of her fur. “Need to getting food. Am go. You staying.”</p><p>  A panicked little noise escaped her. “No!”</p><p>  “Must. Must getting food. Food for Venka, yes?”</p><p>  Venka wrapped both bony paws around her arm. “Please! Don’t leave.”</p><p>  At first, she thought the nestling was going to pull her feathers again, but Venka only clung to her. “No,” Klik admonished gently. “Can’t going with.”</p><p>  “Wh— but—!” Venka’s eyes started to look wet again. “That other one…”</p><p>  <em>Ah. Now I see.</em> She must have woken up while Lur was in the ship. “Kig-Yar, name of Lur? Not come back, never.”</p><p>  “…Never?”</p><p>  She wasn’t exactly sure how to communicate that she’d beat every last scale off anyone who so much as thought about trying to break into <em>Calamity</em>. Instead, she settled for puffing up her feathers and fully extending her crest to show off her size. “Am <em>many</em> more strong than Lur,” she replied. “No one getting in ship. Lock most good also, yes.”</p><p>  “You’ll come back?”</p><p>  “Yes, yes. Getting food, then back. Venka stay. <em>Kworrk</em>. Being safe, yes?”</p><p>  Venka’s grip on her arm relaxed. “Promise?”</p><p>  “Promise.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>   </p><p>  A raucous laugh went up from the rocks ahead. Two sentries—an Ibie’shan and a Ruuhtian—were perched on the edge of a short cliff, taking turns shooting at some pinkish lizard things that skittered across the ground. Klik watched for a moment as one brandished a battered Type-33 and fired off a single needle. There was a crystalline <em>plink</em>, followed by a pop and wet crunch. Both sentries tossed back their heads and laughed again.</p><p>  Klik called out with a friendly <em>quo’op</em> as she reached the top of the hill behind them.</p><p>The pair scrambled up from where they had been sitting and jogged to meet her, clearly agitated that she had interrupted their fun—or perhaps upset that someone had caught them slacking off.</p><p>  &lt;Halt!&gt; the Ruuhtian demanded, flaring her quills forward. &lt;What’s your business here, stranger?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Is there a trading post around here?&gt; She added a few sociable croaks, hoping to calm them.</p><p>  &lt;Depends,&gt; answered the Ibie’shan. She lowered her head in suspicion. &lt;What’re you looking to buy?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Food, basic supplies.&gt;</p><p>  The two exchanged a look, then the Ruuhtian spoke up again. &lt;There’s an entry fee: 100 gekz.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;There is?&gt; her companion asked with a quizzical head-tilt.</p><p>  &lt;There is <em>now.</em>&gt;</p><p>  Klik narrowed her eyes. &lt;Fine. I’ll be leaving, then.&gt;</p><p>  The Ibie’shan spoke up this time, tapping her weapon. &lt;Actually, there’s an <em>exit</em> fee, too.&gt;</p><p>  If she made any move for her carbine now, they’d stick her full of needles. She watched the two shuffle back and forth, their movements twitchy as they tried to anticipate her path and block her. Inexperienced, untested. They had probably never risen past the rank of Minor, if they had served in the Covenant. She swiveled her head to the left suddenly, and the sentries instantly followed her gaze.</p><p>  <em> Idiots.</em></p><p>  She charged forward and body-checked the Ruuhtian off the side of the cliff. A squawk and a spray of dust followed. The Ibie’shan wheeled back on her and managed to squeeze off a few needles. They glanced off the armor along her thigh, and Klik thrust out her arm. She caught the sentry by her neck and shoved her back to the ground, then hopped onto her chest. The Ibie’shan let out a hoarse screech, half-choked by the weight pressing down on her. She tried to raise her needler, but Klik slapped it away.</p><p>  &lt;Y-you can’t do this! We’ll… we’ll tell our mother!&gt; she rasped.</p><p>  &lt;Listen here, you little brigand!&gt; Klik leaned down and bit the end of the sentry’s snout, prompting another piteous yelp. &lt;I am <em>not</em> paying any ‘fees.’ You are going to point me to the trading post, and you’re <em>not</em> going to give me any more trouble. Understood, <em>mav-sush?</em>&gt;</p><p>  The Ibie’shan sentry croaked out a <em>yes</em> as she struggled to push Klik off. Satisfied that her point had been made, Klik moved off of her, then gave the needler a swift kick. It went sailing over the edge of the cliff, narrowly missing the head of the Ruuhtian as she scrabbled back up onto the mesa. As she swung her laser pistol up over the ledge, Klik stepped down on her hand. There was a crack of bone and a screech, and the Ruuhtian began trying to bite at her armored foot.</p><p>  She stepped aside and picked up the gun as the sentry clutched at her crushed, bleeding hand. &lt;I’ll take this. Now…&gt; She turned back to the Ibie’shan. &lt;You were about to give me directions?&gt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  Ven III didn’t have a proper trade quarter, which was unsurprising considering its residents. Most of the goods that came to this planet were scrap, weapons, and ships that were destined for clearing houses. Of course, even pirates needed to eat, and so a few of the savvier ones had taken to selling basic supplies out of their scrap carts. Those who did sold only by haggling.</p><p>  Klik hated it. She was decent at negotiating fees for her own work; that was necessary. Haggling down to the last gekz on water and dried <em>chuutho</em> meat, however, was tedious and annoying. She often lost her patience with the ritual. It was the kind of thing she had left to Teth when the two of them were younger.</p><p>  The worst part was how easily the sellers could sense her irritation, and they took gleeful advantage of her wish for a speedy transaction. They were already charging her double for being an outsider, and simply because they could. (Where else was she going to buy goods in this wasteland?) By the end, her pockets were much lighter of tokens than she liked, though she had managed to keep from losing all of her gekz by bartering away the sentry’s laser pistol. More importantly, she had gathered enough food and other necessities to last herself and Venka until Unza’u Station.</p><p>  All of Lur’s data was, as he had indicated, on adult humans, so she simply scaled down the daily food portions when buying. She hoped that human juveniles were just little versions of the adults, and didn’t require some exotic diet that only the parents could supply. She had obtained several fruits and vegetables which were confirmed as non-toxic to humans, along with a small portion of thoroughly cooked meat. It seemed that even as adults, the poor things couldn’t stomach raw or rotting food. What a terrible way to live.</p><p>  Her final stop before heading back to the ship was a small bar. It was surprisingly well-kept compared to all the other places in this settlement. The floor was packed dirt like everywhere else, but it had real lights and real furniture, not just scrap cobbled together into approximations of tables and seats. There were even decorative chalk drawings on the walls. Whoever ran the place was clearly doing well for themselves, and keen to stay here.</p><p>She ignored the curious glances of the other patrons as she entered, and walked straight to the bar. It seemed unattended until two chitinous hands reached over the edge of the counter. She peered down to see an Unggoy looking back at her.</p><p>  &lt;Whaddaya want?&gt; the Unggoy asked in perfect, very colloquial, Muloqt dialect. The bartender drummed her spiny fingers on the counter. &lt;We got hechaj, we got ikpa. Mostly ikpa. I recommend the ikpa.&gt;</p><p>  Klik blinked. &lt;I’ll have the ikpa.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Sure. Five gekz.&gt;</p><p>  The bartender toddled off, filled a bowl, and handed it to her as Klik slid the tokens across the counter. &lt;Here ya go. Some weather we’re having, huh?&gt; she asked, and began cleaning another bowl.</p><p>  Klik glanced out the door. There was nothing but bright sun and the constant red haze of the dusty atmosphere. &lt;Yes, it is definitely… weather.&gt; She sniffed at the pungent drink. &lt;The fat in this is rancid.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Huh.&gt; The bartender looked up from her work. &lt;Is that bad?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;No, I kind of prefer it this way.&gt;</p><p>  Klik dipped her beak into it and took a long drink. Yes, that definitely hit the spot. As she began to relax, she noticed that a trio of pirates had sidled up to the bar next to her. They were sipping their own drinks, but only enough to try and appear casual.</p><p>  &lt;Something you want?&gt; she asked tersely.</p><p>  They looked up at her, then each other. The biggest of the three, a <em>shuuk-ta</em> Ruuhtian with dense, colorful quills and greenish skin stepped forward. &lt;I’m Tlek. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.&gt;</p><p>  She noted the red flush at the base of his quills, and relaxed. He wasn’t here to start trouble. He wanted to flirt.</p><p>  &lt;No, you haven’t,&gt; she replied. <em>And hopefully, you won’t again.</em> Klik drained her bowl of ikpa, and hopped off her seat. He wasn’t unappealing, but she didn’t have the time or inclination for that right now.</p><p>  &lt;W-wait!&gt; A smaller <em>chul-ta</em> skittered over to block her path, though only partially. He was trying to slow her exit, not box her in. &lt;What’s your name? Are you staying long?&gt;</p><p>  She fluffed her crest at him, and he took a few steps back. &lt;I’m not looking for a mate. Now, get lost.&gt;</p><p>  A clawed hand grasped her shoulder from behind, and her plumage instantly stood on end. Some males could be annoyingly insistent, but none had ever put a hand on her. She hissed out a warning as she whirled around.</p><p>  &lt;How <em>dare</em> you—!&gt;</p><p>  Something hard connected with her brow ridge, and she went tumbling across the floor. Her vision swam, and when it finally settled, she was staring up at a huge <em>theq-we</em> Ibie’shan.</p><p>  The matriarch loomed over her, knife-like teeth flashing. Her face was scarred and the tips of her quills still held traces of a Major’s ochre dye. In her hand was a drinking bowl, its edge purple with blood. Klik touched her head and realized the blood was her own.</p><p>  She stumbled to her feet, dizzy. &lt;If those are your mates,&gt; she said, gesturing to the fleeing males as she shook the stars out of her vision, &lt;I have no interest in them. I’m leaving.&gt; She noted unhappily that a couple of fruits had spilled from her pack.</p><p>  &lt;You’re not going anywhere!&gt; The matriarch hissed and lunged at her. She dodged, and heard the matriarch’s powerful jaws snap closed just past her head. Although the bite missed, she caught Klik by the arm and swung her around into a table. &lt;Think you can just strut into <em>my</em> bar after what you did to my daughters?!&gt;</p><p>  <em>Oh. The sentries. Shit.</em></p><p>  For a brief moment, she thought about feigning innocence, but there probably weren’t too many new faces on this rock and even fewer of them T’vaoan. She grabbed the nearest thing she could reach, which turned out to be a bowl of porridge, and hurled it at the matriarch’s head. It missed, but the spray of mushcreated just enough distraction for Klik to roll off of the table and under it.</p><p>  The matriarch tossed aide the bowl she’d been holding and it shattered, prompting a distressed wail from the bartender. She wiped the gobs of porridge away from her eyes and roared.</p><p>  &lt;Come back here, coward!&gt;</p><p>  Klik strapped her pack down tighter, then unclipped her carbine from her back. Just as she got it in her hands, the table crashed over and a knife scraped across the back of her armor. She did a sprinting roll forward, under the next table, then turned back to face her assailant.</p><p>  She fired off a round, hoping to hit the matriarch’s leg. Instead, she just blew a neat little chunk out of the bar as the Ibie’shan leapt after her and landed on top of the table.It teetered under her weight as she leaned over the edge, lashing out with her claws. One of her swipes raked across Klik’s breastplate, while the other caught her right shoulder and jaw, slicing through scales and skin. The knife came down next, and she brought her carbine up to block it. Klik hissed and snapped at the matriarch’s arm, which earned her a swipe of claws across the back of the head and some pulled feathers.</p><p>  &lt;I’m gonna reach down your throat and strangle you with <em>your own gizzard!</em>&gt; the matriarch roared.</p><p>  Klik rolled onto her back and kicked upward with both feet, knocking over the table and the her attacker with it. An indignant shriek erupted as the matriarch tried claw her way out from under the table. Klik jumped up, over the furniture and the cursing matriarch, and made a dead sprint for the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  It took Klik over an hour to reach <em>Calamity</em>. She had taken the most circuitous route possible, in order to avoid leading anyone after her from the bar. Weary, bruised, and bloodied, she dragged herself through the hatch and locked it behind her before settling down on the floor to brood.</p><p>  She caught her breath and muttered to herself with a low, throaty <em>gwuur</em>. No drink was worth that ordeal. She stood again, her mouth gaping as pain throbbed in her head and back, then racked her carbine and padded over to Venka’s nest. When she pulled the blanket back, it was empty.</p><p>  Klik turned around in a panic and gave a sharp, shrill cry. <em>Calamity</em> was not a large ship, and there weren’t many places to hide, even for a skinny human nestling. No sound met her except the echo of her own voice, and she tried again. On the third cry, the less reflexive part of her brain finally kicked in. Of course the human wouldn’t recognize a Kig-Yar call like that.</p><p>  “Venka?!” she called, as she began rifling through her supply crates. The nestling shouldn’t have been able to get into any of them, but she shouldn’t have been able to leave the ship, either. That second possibility made her feathers stand on end. “Venka, where?!”</p><p>  To her right, the cockpit door hissed softly, and two eyes peered out from the half-open door. Klik felt her whole body lighten in relief.</p><p>  Venka didn’t budge from where she stood, but she did look close to another round of that <em>crying</em> that seemed to afflict her. Her eyes watered and she looked down at the floor, muttering something that Klik could barely understand except for the word, “Sorry.”</p><p>  Klik blinked and approached slowly. “Sorry of why?”</p><p>  “I… I just…” She shuffled back, out of Klik’s reach, and huddled down near the nav console. “You were gone and I got scared and I thought you weren’t coming back and I didn’t know what to do and—”</p><p>  Klik only managed to catch a fraction of what she said, but she did understand “gone” and “scared.” She crouched down to put herself at eye-level with Venka. “No troubling. Am mad with Venka, no. None mad, okay?”</p><p>  The nestling’s face scrunched up, and water droplets started rolling down her cheeks, but she wasn’t turning red and leaking mucous like the last time. “You’re… not mad?”</p><p>  “No. Having fear? Hide is good. Hide is best. Such smart!” she chortled gently. “Very smart for Venka. Am none mad with that, yes?”</p><p>  Venka nodded wordlessly, and the near-crying stopped. Klik stood again and held out her arm. Venka immediately grabbed her by the hand with one paw, and followed her out of the cockpit.</p><p>  “Did you get hurt?” she asked.</p><p>  “Yes. Have small hurt.”</p><p>  “Lur?”</p><p>  She pulled her head back and squinted. Now that was just insulting. “No. Am many strong than Lur! Telling this…” She clacked her beak. “Was <em>theq-we</em>.”</p><p>  “Who’s that?”</p><p>  “Don’t knowing Een-lish word.” She pondered over the vocabulary she did know, came up empty, and shook her head human-style. “Big. Claws.”</p><p>  “Oh.” Venka climbed up onto the bench and huddled up in the blankets again.</p><p>  “Going soon, ship,” Klik announced, readjusting the nest around her as well as possible. It wasn’t nearly dense enough for Klik’s liking, and she made a mental note to buy more blankets at the station and a ream of bark paper.</p><p>  “Where? Home?” Venka’s eyes lit up.</p><p>  <em>And where </em>is<em> home for you now, little one?</em> she thought sadly. Aloud, she replied, “No. Soon, yes. But now, no.”</p><p>  “I don’t understand.”</p><p>  Klik struggled again for her wording. She had not yet learned how to describe complex orders of future events in this language. Instead, she decided to demonstrate, and held up her hand, showing two fingers.</p><p>  “Unza’u first soon,” she explained, then folded down one finger. She tapped at the remaining finger with the claws of her opposite hand. “Will finding Venka place <em>second</em> soon. Yes?”</p><p>  “Oh.”</p><p>  “<em>Kworrk</em>. This is must doing. Can’t changing, no.”</p><p>  She removed her pack and reached in for a piece of fruit. Her hand touched something sticky and wet. <em>Of course</em>. The produce had been smashed during the fight. She turned Venka’s hand palm-up and plopped a half-squashed fruit into it. At least it would still taste the same.</p><p>  While Venka ate, Klik trudged over to the nav console and lifted off. It didn’t take long to break atmosphere, and Ven III quickly became a miserable orange speck in the welcoming blackness of open space. She would be glad if she never had to set foot on that planet again. With one last hiss, she set a course for the station, and dove into the colorless void of slipspace.</p><p>* * *</p><p>
  <em>Three Days Later</em>
</p><p>  Klik flared her crest as she turned her head back and forth, scrutinizing herself in the mirror. She had salved her wounds and found some osteo-fix for the fracture in her brow bone. What upset her most, however, was the noticeable divot of missing feathers on the left side of her head. Unfortunately there was nothing to be done about it except wait for them to grow back.</p><p>  She stood, stretching her legs, then traded the hand mirror for her data module and continued sifting through Lur’s notes. The more she read, the more puzzling humans became to her. Their weak jaws couldn’t crack bone, yet they required high amounts of calcium. They didn’t have fangs or claws to hunt, but they needed iron-rich foods like meat. They could process poisons like alcohol in huge quantities, yet <em>itsu’u</em> berries made them violently ill. Perhaps this was to be expected; humans had been a study in contradiction from the moment they were discovered.</p><p>  She clipped the module back to her hip as she left the cockpit and trotted over to Venka’s nest. &lt;Wake, wake now,&gt; she croaked.</p><p>  The blankets shifted and she heard a soft animal grunt.</p><p>  Klik bent down and pressed her head against the nestling’s arm, nudging her softly. “Don’t sleeping now. Time for awake.”</p><p>  “Mmffgg.”</p><p>  “Don’t knowing <em>‘mmffgg.’</em> Awake now, for food.” She nudged Venka more insistently, and retrieved a fruit from her pack.</p><p>  A paw immediately shot out from the nest and grabbed at the fruit. Klik let Venka tug at it a moment before releasing. The nestling’s grip strength was better, but still weak. She reached down and pulled the blankets back.</p><p>  Venka sat up, eating hastily, and wiped the juice from her mouth. “Can I have another?”</p><p>  <em>Ah! Not so sleepy all of a sudden, are you, little one?</em> She pushed a few strands of fur away from Venka’s eyes. “Wanting fruit kind of <em>heko</em> or <em>ag’ach?</em>” Klik asked.</p><p>  “Which is the purple one?”</p><p>  “<em>Heko</em>.”</p><p>“That one, please!”</p><p>  Klik fished out a plump <em>heko</em>, and tossed it to her; Venka caught it easily in both paws. <em>Good.</em> Her motor control was still decent.</p><p>  “Fthank you,” Venka said between mouthfuls of juicy purple fruit. She bared her teeth—a smile, Klik remembered—and scooted a little closer.</p><p>  “Is welcome, yes,” she said. “What feels having, today?”</p><p>  Venka pulled her shoulders up briefly, then let them sag. “Sleepy… And hungry.” She yawned, blinking her eyes clear, and leaned into Klik.</p><p>  While Venka was more lively than she had been the past few days, it was only a minor improvement. Her lethargy, muscle weakness, and apparent thinness were all worrisome. Additionally, Klik had never seen her do anything that looked like grooming, though she often scratched at her skin and fur. Had her caretakers died before teaching her how? Was it a developmental issue? Or was it another symptom of malnourishment?</p><p>  Klik chortled gently, trying to keep the worry from her posture. “Small wait, then second eating, yes?”</p><p>  “Okay.” Venka looked unhappy, but didn’t protest. “How long ‘til we get to Oonz… Oonz-uh?”</p><p>  “Unza’u.”</p><p>  “Yeah! That planet!”</p><p>  “Not planet.” Klik said. “Is being <em>space stay-shen</em>.”</p><p>  She stood again and walked back to the cockpit, gesturing for Venka to join her. Venka slipped off the bench, still clutching the blankets around herself like a cloak, and followed. Klik opened the cockpit shutters and engaged the impulse drive again.</p><p>  Unza’u Station loomed large in <em>Calamity’s</em> view, gleaming like an ocean-smooth gem in a field of pebbles as she guided the ship through the asteroids. Venka dropped her blanket and moved to the very front of the cockpit, pressing her face and paws against the viewport in awe. She kept moving this way and that, always trying to find the optimal vantage point, and gasped to herself whenever a ship streaked into view.</p><p>  “It’s huge!”</p><p>  Klik slowed their approach to give her more time to take in the sights. It was a relief to see her so bright and enthusiastic about something.</p><p>  “Yes, yes. Was place of Covenant, for having supply. Now, is place of selling,” she explained, wondering if that even meant anything to a child.</p><p>  “Are there… Will there be other people there?”</p><p>  “Yes, yes. Many people,” Klik replied. She saw Venka’s expression brighten, and amended, “No <em>humans</em>. Humans don’t knowing it.”</p><p>  The nestling’s face took on a reddish color and she cast her eyes downward. “Oh.”</p><p>  “Finding human place soon, yes? But. Needing first to have supply.”</p><p>  “Can I go with you?” She tensed visibly. “…To the space station?”</p><p>  “<em>Kworrk.</em>” Klik shook her head human-style as the nestling looked back at her. “No. Venka must staying here. Is dangerous.”</p><p>  “I’ll be good, I promise!”</p><p>  Klik tilted her head, regarding the nestling with one yellow eye. “Am thinking <em>others</em> not good, maybe. Is safe on ship. Venka understanding this, yes?”</p><p>  Venka’s eyes grew wet. Wordlessly, she turned back to stare out the viewport.</p><p>* * *</p><p>  &lt;The payment is agreeable. The fuel is yours. You will find it satisfactory in every regard.&gt; The mechanic set the armored case in front of her. They twisted their head back and forth, regarding her with each of their bulbous compound eyes. &lt;Do you wish to purchase more goods or services?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;No.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Our business is now concluded. Leave.&gt; The mechanic brushed both clawed hands over their antennae, then flutter-hopped back into the shop with the rest of their swarm.</p><p>  <em>Succinct as always.</em> She liked that about the Yanme’e.</p><p>  Klik picked up the fuel case and stepped back onto the station promenade, moving seamlessly into the flow of foot traffic. There had been some improvements since her last visit: new, more natural lighting, containers of ferns and mosses, and seating areas throughout the concourse. While Unza’uStation still held reminders of its old purpose, it was slowly transforming from a utilitarian supply depot into a fine bazaar. It was also one of the few remnants of the Covenant empire that had not fallen under the banner of any splinter faction. For many, that made it a haven.</p><p>  Two young Kig-Yar darted past her, uttering a giddy <em>wek-wek-wek</em> as they chased a wicker ball. She slowed to a stop as she watched them, and felt a stab of guilt. Venka hadn’t left <em>Calamity</em> since she arrived on it in nearly a week ago, and there wasn’t much onboard to entertain her.</p><p>  It was horribly unfair to leave her in the ship, but bringing her along would have been begging for trouble. Unza’u station was open to all species, strictly neutral, and weapons free. That did not, however, mean it was peaceful.</p><p>  One of the chicks cried out as a Sangheili warrior shoved past it, knocking it to the ground.</p><p>  In three quick steps, Klik was in front of him. She fluffed out her feathers. &lt;What do you think you’re doing?!&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Filthy <em>scavenger</em>,&gt; the Sangheili growled, moving to step past her. &lt;Get out of my way.&gt;</p><p>  She darted back into his path and let her jaws gape open, showing her teeth. &lt;You just pushed a <em>child!</em> Spleen-less coward!&gt; From the corner of her eye, she could see that the two chicks had scampered off to the safety of a nearby market stall. &lt;Go apologize to the family!&gt;</p><p>  He splayed his mandibles. &lt;You <em>dare</em> give me orders?&gt;</p><p>  By this time, several angry Kig-Yar had gathered, having heard the chick’s cry and come to investigate. Various hisses and warning rattles rose up from the small crowd. Emboldened, Klik made a feinting snap at the Sangheili’s shin.</p><p>  To her surprise, he immediately turned and jogged away. The crowd, too, instantly dispersed, and a shadow fell across her. Only one person on the station who could command such a reaction.</p><p>  &lt;Ah. Domitarus.&gt; Klik closed her beak and turned.</p><p>The head of security yawned, his massive fangs glittering with saliva, and he leaned on the pommel of his gravity hammer. The weapon was mostly for show, but everyone knew that he would be happy to use it, if given sufficient cause. Klik had no intention of giving him one.</p><p>  &lt;I’m sure you remember the rules,&gt; Domitarus said. &lt;You want to pick fights, you take it <em>outside</em>.&gt;</p><p>  That, too, was no idle threat. There were more than a few frozen troublemakers drifting through the asteroids around the station after a swift exit out the airlocks.</p><p>  &lt;Of course. I am <em>always</em> happy to abide by the rules,&gt; Klik replied, unblinking. &lt;I was just giving that ruffian a stern talking-to. I trust you’ll be issuing him a citation?&gt;</p><p>  The Jiralhanae scrutinized her for a long moment, then grabbed her by the arm. &lt;Come with me.&gt;</p><p>  Klik gave a startled squawk. &lt;I’ve done nothing! Let me go! This is assault!&gt; She twisted her head and nipped at his fingers as he dragged her along, to no avail. &lt;I demand to speak to Nune!&gt;</p><p>  He laughed and pulled her through the nearest security door. &lt;Who do you think sent me to fetch you?&gt;</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  &lt;One miscreant, as requested.&gt; Domitarus let go of Klik’s arm and shoved her forward.</p><p>  At the center of the room behind an ornate console sat a female Sangheili in silvery robes. She looked up from her work and clicked her mandibles affectionately at Domitarus. &lt;Thank you, beloved.&gt;</p><p>  He rumbled contentedly and leaned against the door, blocking Klik’s exit. She cast him an irritable glance, then looked back at the Sangheili.</p><p>  &lt;Lady ‘Karalak,&gt; she said, dipping her head respectfully. &lt;Always a pleasure.&gt;</p><p>  Officially, the station was run by a board. Anyone who paid attention, however, knew that Nune Karalak was the sole power on Unza’u. After the Covenant’s dissolution, she had seized the station with the help of Domitarus’ pack. Whether the two had started their affair before or after that incident was the subject of much local gossip. In either case, no one dared to cross them now.</p><p>  &lt;Thank you for joining me, Klik Roq,&gt; Nune said pleasantly, as though Klik had been given any choice in the matter. &lt;I summoned you because I find myself in need of your services. Do your present commitments allow for a new contract?&gt;</p><p>  Of course, the only possible answer to that was <em>yes</em>. Still, she whistled a thoughtful note. &lt;Perhaps. Please, tell me a little about your situation, and I’ll see if I can help.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;It’s simple, really. Something was stolen from me. I want it back.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;And the thief?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;If you were to make an example of him, I would gladly compensate your efforts.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Dead, then. I’ll bring fingers.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;If he’s dead,&gt; Nune replied with a casual air, &lt;then who’s going to tell the rest of the galaxy not to fuck with me? Get creative. That’s what troubleshooters <em>do</em>, isn’t it?&gt;</p><p>  While she was still indignant over being hauled her involuntarily, this could be a promising opportunity. Klik leaned forward, her eyes glinting. &lt;Gladly.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Good. Let’s talk details, shall we?&gt; Nune stood and activated a holoprojector on the console in front of her. It fizzed to life, and displayed an intricately decorated sphere.</p><p>  &lt;You want me to retrieve an arum?&gt; Klik turned her head curiously. She had seen these before—they were children’s puzzles. Although the Sangheili ascribed some sort of cultural importance to the objects, she didn't imagine that this one had much monetary value.</p><p>  &lt;Yes.&gt; Nune enlarged the hologram to show the object’s detail. &lt;This particular arum has been in my clan for a hundred generations. It’s a piece of our history.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;But it’s about more than that, isn’t it?&gt; Klik turned her gaze back to Nune. &lt;It’s about sending a message.&gt;</p><p>  Nune’s eyes flashed. &lt;I’m so glad we’re writing in the same script.&gt; She touched the projector controls again. The arum disappeared and the image of a Sangheili male with grey-brown skin and orange eyes took its place. &lt;This is the wretch who stole it: Khet ‘Vrath.&gt;</p><p>  Klik studied his face, then took stock of the room. At one corner of Nune’s console sat an empty display stand made from the same wood as the arum. <em>Took it right out from under her. Bold.</em> To Nune, she said, &lt;You know him?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Distant cousin. But don’t let that hold you back when you find him.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;And where might he be now?&gt;</p><p>  Nune clicked her mandibles. &lt;This is where I have particular need of your skills. I haven’t seen or heard from Khet since he left here a week ago, and he hasn’t returned to Sanghelios. I believe he has some contacts in Kor Delban, though.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;One last question, then,&gt; Klik said. She turned around and faced Domitarus. &lt;Why didn’t <em>you</em> stop him?&gt;</p><p>  The Jiralhanae gave an unconcerned snort. &lt;He has a cloaking module, and I was elsewhere at that moment. He was gone by the time the theft was discovered.&gt;</p><p>  <em>So, he made it all the way back to his ship without tipping off security.</em> Klik preened a stray feather from her arm in a show of nonchalance, and turned back to Nune. &lt;I would be happy to reunite you with your property, Lady ‘Karalak. And if I happen to see Khet ‘Vrath in the process, well… I’ll give him your regards.&gt;</p><p>* * *</p><p>  There was obviously a great deal that Nune wasn’t telling her about this job. Klik didn’t believe for a second that this arum was merely some family heirloom. For 20,000 gekz, however, she could afford to be incurious.</p><p>  Klik cast a quick glance around the station’s docking bay, then opened <em>Calamity’s</em> hatch and slipped inside. No sooner had she hit the lights than a skinny pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She gave a startled <em>wok!</em> and looked down to see Venka clinging to her tightly. Confusion was her first reaction; then she recalled seeing humans embrace each other similarly. Before she could return the gesture, the nestling glanced up with an almost fearful expression and scampered back. Venka hopped up on the bench again, and grew still.</p><p>  “<em>Qurrokk</em>.” An odd reaction, but perhaps that was typical for human young. Or perhaps Venka was still afraid of her. Klik set down the fuel case and her pack, and began rifling through it. “Venka having a hunger?” she asked. “Am buyed more food. Such taste!”</p><p>She unwrapped a stack of warm <em>riqa</em> bread, and offered a strip of it. Venka’s shyness evaporated again and she snatched one of the morsels. Slowly, Klik moved over to join her on the bench. She pulled out a jar of pungent-smelling green paste and smeared some across another piece of <em>riqa</em>.</p><p>  “Here. Eating with <em>zuuk</em>-<em>shesh</em>.”</p><p>  Venka wrinkled her nose, but reached for it anyway. “What is this stuff?”</p><p>  “Egg of water animal. Is being the most health and taste. Good for growing strong.” The food was gone before Klik had finished speaking, and Venka stared eagerly at the jar. She tilted her head and held out another piece of <em>riqa</em>. “Wanting more?”</p><p>  Venka nodded and took it, then scooped up as much of the paste as possible. Klik gave a reassuring croak and stretched an arm over Venka’s shoulders to cover her, and began preening her fur. Tiny blue insects still crawled through it, and her scalp looked dry and scaly.</p><p>  “…What are you doing to my hair?”</p><p>  Klik blinked as she nibbled on another insect. “Hair having bug. <em>Many</em> bug. Am fixing.”</p><p>  “That’s gross.”</p><p>  “Don’t knowing word ‘gross.’” Klik took a greasy lock of fur in her fingers and examined it. “Can cutting fur?”</p><p>  Venka wiped at her mouth with one paw and looked up. “Huh?”</p><p>  “Fur is having bug. Bug does hurt to skin, yes?” She mimed scratching at her own head.</p><p>  The nestling nodded balefully. “I hate it.”</p><p>  Klik preened carefully around a raw spot. “Can cutting fur, make bug leave. This okay, yes?” She was fairly positive that human fur was ornamental, and didn’t contain any nerve endings. “Won’t hurting to cut fur?”</p><p>  “Uhm… Haircuts don’t hurt. It grows back.”</p><p>  “Okay. Will <em>haircuts</em> for Venka. Can being very still, yes?”</p><p>  The nestling’s eyes darted back and forth. Her nostrils flared slightly. “Okay…”</p><p>  “Having second food after,” Klik chortled encouragingly. “If being the most still, can having <em>heko</em> fruit <em>and</em> a meat!”</p><p>  Her eyes lit up at the promise of an extra treat, and she nodded vigorously. Venka turned to face away, sat up straight, and squared her bony shoulders.</p><p>  Klik unsheathed her knife and set to work. She took Venka’s fur by the handful, slicing it down to a finger-width long. Then she carefully shaved off the remainder, giving reassuring <em>kworrks</em> all the while. Klik wasn’t sure if it was caution over the knife or eagerness for food, but Venka sat as still as a stone the entire time. It was a feat she hadn’t thought possible from such a young creature.</p><p>  She applied a soothing balm to Venka’s bare head when finished, then offered the promised food in small chunks. She was still wary of letting the nestling eat too much, too quickly lest she get sick.</p><p>  “Skin is hurt now, no?” Klik asked. The more Een-lish she spoke, the more certain she was that she was hacking its grammar apart at the seams. <em>At least I won’t have to keep this up for long,</em> she thought with a sigh.</p><p>  “Not as much.” Venka finished her last piece of fruit and ran her paws over her scalp gingerly.</p><p>  “Good, good.”</p><p>  She looked back at Klik. “Where are we going next? After we leave the station?”</p><p>  “Karava,” Klik answered. She tapped at her data module, then handed it over to show Venka the planet. It didn’t have a large human population, but there were enough if them around Kor Delban that she felt confident she could find Venka a home.</p><p>  While Venka looked over the images, Klik retrieved a small bundle from her pack. The nestling accepted it with excitement, and began to unwind the cord that held it closed. Then she abruptly stopped and fell still, as if the parcel had threatened to bite. Klik nudged her beak into Venka’s shoulder.</p><p>  “This also for Venka.”</p><p>  She nodded, and finished unwrapping it. There was a simple robe, a cloak, some powdered bathing clay, a ball, and a cloth toy animal. Klik knew that none of the things she had bought were quite right. The robe was too big, the cloak was coarse, she couldn’t find shoes to fit a human, and she had no idea how the species groomed themselves. Unfortunately, it was the best she could find at the moment. She hoped that the ball, at least, was universal.</p><p>  Although she examined each item curiously, Venka’s interest lingered on the toy animal longest. It was a caricature of a <em>ko</em><em>tteb,</em> which was missing a few stitches and one of its ears, but was well-made and soft. Venka clutched it to her chest, hiding her face in its mane.</p><p>  “Thanks.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>  Klik fussed over the nest again, trying to ensure that it was perfectly structured without waking Venka. Now that she had a full belly, clean clothes, and a warm bed, it hadn’t taken the nestling long to fall asleep; she still clung tightly to her toy <em>kotteb</em>. As Klik tucked one last piece of bark paper around the edge of the nest, a loud chime sounded from the cockpit.</p><p>  She scurried over to the console and hit the comm. Teth’s face appeared on screen.</p><p>  &lt;Hey! Where have you been?&gt;</p><p>  Klik moved in front of the camera and swiftly closed the cockpit hatch. She didn’t want to wake Venka, and it was better if Teth didn’t know about her passenger.</p><p>  “<em>Resh’te</em>, Teth,” she said, a little guiltily. &lt;I’m sorry I wasn’t able to send more gekz.&gt;</p><p>  Her sister gave an admonishing <em>tchk-tchk-tchk</em>. &lt;When have I cared about that? I haven’t heard from you in a <em>month!</em> I was starting to think you’d gone talons-up, this time.&gt;</p><p>  She flattened her feathers and drew her head back toward her shoulders, warbling an apology. &lt;Things have been… chaotic.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;What happened?&gt; Teth moved closer to her screen, squinting. &lt;Are you in trouble? You look like shit.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;There was a small misunderstanding,&gt; Klik grumbled, turning to keep her patched brow bone out of view. Besides personal embarrassment, the less her family knew about her work and movement, the safer they would be. &lt;I’m fine. And more importantly, I have a new contract—with an advance. I’ll send your portion soon. Hopefully that will make up for last time.&gt;</p><p>  Teth eyed her. &lt;…Are you really alright?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Yes.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;You’re an absolute <em>pem’tek</em>, you know that?&gt; Teth huffed, shaking her feathers out.</p><p>  &lt;Rocks-for-brains,&gt; Klik shot back without malice. &lt;How are things?&gt;</p><p>  Teth moved back from the camera, settling onto a cushion. &lt;Hunting’s been poor lately, but we’re getting by. I’ve set fish traps, and there are lots of beetles,&gt; she said. &lt;Gan has been staying home with the chicks while his arm heals.&gt;</p><p>  Teth gave a pleased <em>tik-tik-gwaah</em> and turned the camera to look over her shoulder. Her mate, Gan Yab, was curled up in the creche, half-asleep with the hatchlings clustered around him. His left arm was in a cast, while his right was stretched out over the chicks, covering them with his feathers. One of the chicks cracked open an eye and craned its head back, then caught a couple of Gan’s feathers in its mouth and pulled.</p><p>  Gan woke with a startled squawk, then hissed a gentle reprimand at the hatchling. All of the chicks scattered in surprise at the noise. After standing about for a moment, they each began to make the same hissing sound themselves.</p><p>  &lt;Oh, very good!&gt; Gan bumped the end of his beak against each of theirs, cooing and chortling to them. &lt;Very good. You’re all getting so big. You’ll be very scary, soon! You’re frightening me a bit now.&gt;</p><p>  One of the others made a grab for the feathers of his injured arm, and he lifted it out of the way quickly.</p><p>  Klik looked back at her sister. &lt;What happened? Was it—?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;No. No, they don’t know we’re here. An angry <em>tuurkar</em> got into the village,&gt; Teth explained, raking at an itch in her feathers. &lt;Gan chased it off, but not before it took a swipe at him.&gt;</p><p>  Gan Yab was small for a <em>chul-ta</em> male—no bigger than Teth—with yellow skin, pale reddish eyes, and brown feathers that were interspersed with stiff quills. Despite the lovely iridescent patterning of his feathers, he wasn’t terribly attractive by T’vaoan standards, and the rest of their clan had given Teth a hard time for settling down with someone from Ruuht. But Gan was clever and uncommonly brave, and an absolutely devoted parent. Teth had partnered well.</p><p>  &lt;Are you hungry?&gt; A series of eager shrieks answered Gan. &lt;Come, then. Let’s get lunch.&gt;</p><p>  Klik <em>chrrred</em> to herself as she watched him lead the chicks outside. &lt;Is it time for them to go out already? They <em>are</em> getting big,&gt; she said to her sister. They hadn’t even had their first molt when she last spoke to Teth.</p><p>  &lt;Yes. We started letting them forage in the yard a few days ago. We’ll give them their names, soon.&gt; She twisted her head looking into the camera with one eye, then the other. &lt;Do you know when you’ll visit next? You should meet them.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;No, I’m sorry.&gt; A shiver rolled through her skin. The Covenant was broken, but even shards of glass could still cut deeply. &lt;It’s safer if I stay away. For awhile longer, at least.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I understand,&gt; Teth croaked. &lt;Take care of yourself. And remember the damn check-ins!&gt;</p><p>  Klik gave a grumbling laugh. &lt;I will,&gt; she said. “<em>Nenvu</em>.”</p><p>  “<em>Nenvu, seb-ja,</em>” Teth replied, and closed the connection.</p><p>  Everything Klik had ever planned in life, everything she had ever known, had been shattered during the last year. She’d once had hopes of raising chicks herself, but now that possibility seemed out of reach. Her family was all that she had left. It was all that mattered to her. She would face any risk to keep them safe. If she couldn’t be a mother, she reasoned, then she would be a fantastic aunt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Karava was a beautiful world, with picturesque mountains and verdant forests, but it was no one’s idea of a vacation spot. It was a backwater, mostly known for less-than-legal trade through Kor Delban, grungy bars, and its rabble of a population. Originally a Sangheili colony, other species had long made Karava their home, as well. The latest of these were humans.</p>
<p>  While the Covenant had never drawn any distinctions, the Kig-Yar had learned some years ago that there were at least two kinds of humans. The first were the UNSC, who had put up the greatest resistance during the war, and who controlled the species’ homeworld. The second were called “Innies,” and they were of particular interest; they liked to buy and sell weapons.</p>
<p>  There was some rift between the two factions for reasons that Klik hadn’t quite puzzled out. The most important difference, however, was that Innies were marginally more inclined to work with other species than the UNSC humans. At least, when it suited their needs.</p>
<p>  She set <em>Calamity</em> down in a grassy meadow south of Kor Delban, between a stream and a cluster of alien buildings. A small settlement had sprung up in the port city’s shadow, which its inhabitants called “Riverside.”</p>
<p>  Klik opened the ship’s hatch and surveyed the area through her carbine’s scope. Satisfied that it was safe, she trotted down the ramp and called for Venka. The nestling shielded her eyes against the sun, then hurried after her. Venka giggled when her feet touched the cool grass.</p>
<p>  “It’s so pretty here,” she said, smiling. Venka crouched down to investigate a cluster of pink, disk-shaped fungi.</p>
<p>  While Venka explored, Klik stood watch. The nestling splashed through the shallow edges of the stream, startling fish and little amphibians, which she watched with awe. It was good to see her so active. Venka’s condition had improved markedly since Klik first found her, but she was still far from full health. Other humans could give her the care she needed to recover.</p>
<p>  After a few minutes of playtime, Klik gave a sharp <em>kwoorrrk</em> to catch Venka’s attention. “Time for going, now. Okay?”</p>
<p>  “Oh.” A curious expression passed over her face. Still, she scurried over to Klik’s side, and followed her along the trail.</p>
<p>  “This being new place for Venka,” Klik explained as they walked, and pointed up the hill. “Name of Riverside.”</p>
<p>  It was a ramshackle collection of half a dozen buildings, all in various states of construction, and arrayed in an open half-circle. In the “courtyard” between them sat an old human dropship—one of their ubiquitous Pelicans—and stacks upon stacks of weapons crates and building supplies. The settlement was ringed by barbed wire and sandbags, and the earth between the fence and the buildings had been turned up as if for a field.</p>
<p>  Klik stopped at the fence and gestured for Venka to wait, then strode up to the crude gate and rang the bell atop it. Two figures in camouflage emerged from the Pelican, each with human-made guns at their hips. One, tall and yellow-furred, drew their weapon. The other—shorter and rounder, with greying fur—merely rested their hand atop their pistol.</p>
<p>  “Hold up, newcomer,” said the first. “State your name and business here.”</p>
<p>  Klik gave an indignant <em>krra-ak</em>. “Am not being new, <em>Plaskett</em>.” She sometimes had difficulty telling humans apart from one another visually, but she could distinguish them easily by their voices. She hated Plaskett’s voice.</p>
<p>  He scowled. “S’not our fault you freaks all look alike.”</p>
<p>  “Hello, Klik,” said the second human, Dumont. He sighed and motioned for Plaskett to put away his gun. “Should ‘ave known it was you. You’re the only buzzard crazy enough to come here twice.”</p>
<p>  She ignored the barbs. “Am here for most <em>best</em> help to humans,” she announced. “Will thanking so much.”</p>
<p>  “<em>God</em>, I hate listening to you talk,” Plaskett groaned. “It’s like someone pasted a dictionary together blind-folded.”</p>
<p>  The vocabulary of the sentence escaped her, but she got the gist. Klik regarded him irritably. “Um? Plaskett is having <em>how</em> many talks?” She made a show of counting on her fingers, then sneered. “Hm! One talk <em>only</em>.”</p>
<p>  “Save it—both of you,” cut in Dumont. “You got some weapons surplus, Klik?” He approached, but didn’t offer to open the gate.</p>
<p>  “No, no. Not having sell.” She trotted over to where Venka sat, and ushered the nestling forward. “Am here to helping!”</p>
<p>  Venka waved shyly, but stayed close to Klik, as if attempting to hide in her shadow.</p>
<p>  Dumont and Plaskett exchanged looks. “You come all this way just to show us your dinner?” quipped Plaskett, showing his teeth. She wasn't sure if that was a smile.</p>
<p>  Klik extended her crest irritably, and placed both hands on the nestling’s bony shoulders in reassurance. “This Venka,” she said evenly. “Am finding alone, no family. So. Am bring here for safe!”</p>
<p>  “And why are you telling us? Are you expecting a finder’s fee or something?” Dumont scratched at the fur on his chin. “We don’t collect strays.”</p>
<p>  “Dumont not understanding, no. <em>Tchk-tchk,</em>” she said. “Don’t want bounty. Am bringing Venka to helping only.”</p>
<p>  “For fuck’s sake… Do you <em>see</em> any kids around here, you dumb bird?” asked Plaskett sourly. “There’s a reason for that.”</p>
<p>  Venka wrapped both paws around her right arm, and pressed back into her, half-turning away from the two humans. Klik gave a discomforted rumble.</p>
<p>  “Venka needing <em>home</em>. Home being now in Riverside. Humans can giving safe and care. Yes?” She shrugged off her pack and reached in to offer the blankets she had brought along.</p>
<p>  “No. Absolutely not. We don’t want children here.” Dumont crossed his arms over his chest and cast a glance at Venka. “Much less sick ones.”</p>
<p>  Klik could only stare. <em>Why won’t they take her in?</em> “<em>Gwurrr</em>… Don’t understanding—”</p>
<p>  Plaskett scowled and his lips curled back over his teeth. “If you don’t stop making those fucking <em>chicken</em> noises at me, I’m gonna wring your neck!”</p>
<p>  She extended her crest further and let her mouth gape open, but Venka’s tightening grip on her arm stopped her from taking a nip at him. By this time, a few more humans had appeared in the courtyard, drawn by the commotion. None of them approached, but a few kept their hands on their weapons. Klik closed her mouth and tried again, slower.</p>
<p>  “Venka <em>alone,</em>” she said firmly. “No family. No home. None! All glass now. <em>No</em> place to going. Is needing other humans.”</p>
<p>  “Yeah, I wonder who did that? Oh, right—<em>your</em> people. You really expect us to believe you’d shed a tear for any human after everything you fucking Covies did?”</p>
<p>  “Am <em>not</em> Covenant!” she hissed.</p>
<p>  “Doesn’t matter,” Dumont cut in again. “The answer’s still <em>no</em>, Klik. We don’t take kids. Try your luck elsewhere.”</p>
<p>  “<em>Rwwwarrk</em>. Don’t—”</p>
<p>  Plaskett grabbed a shovel off the ground and jabbed the end of it against her breastplate, knocking her back onto her rump. “We said, <em>piss</em><em> off!</em>” he snapped. “This is not a damn daycare!”</p>
<p>  He threw the shovel down with a fit of cursing, and stalked off; Dumont ambled after him. Klik sat in stunned disbelief, watching their backs as the two humans disappeared into the Pelican. She snapped out of it when Venka began to cry.</p>
<p>  Klik scrambled to her feet and stretched an arm over the nestling defensively. Venka didn’t seem to notice. She buried her face in her paws, sobbing, and rocked back and forth. Still sheltering her, Klik retrieved the blankets and wrapped them around her shoulders, and began to sing.</p>
<p>  &lt;Look up at the sky, see bright Chu'ot up above. Look up at the sky, see all the sparkling stars.&gt; Gently, she scooped Venka up in her arms, and headed back for <em>Calamity</em>.</p>
<p>* * *</p>
<p>  The sweet hechaj did nothing to ease the bitterness in Klik’sstomach as she drank.She wasn’t sure when she had last felt so confused and angry all at once.</p>
<p>  <em>No. No, I </em>do<em> remember</em>.</p>
<p>  She suppressed a sardonic laugh and knocked back the remains of her drink as she sat alone in the dingy bar. While she had no appetite after today’s ordeal, she had ordered a colo femur just to have something to sink her teeth into. She cracked into it furiously, hardly caring for the savory marrow, and sent splinters of it across the table.</p>
<p>  Innie or UNSC, she didn’t understand how any human could turn away the orphaned young of their own kind. What shocked her most wasn’t even their refusal, but their complete and utter apathy.</p>
<p>  Venka had cried during the entire walk back to <em>Calamity.</em> For hours afterward, Klik had tried to soothe her, but Venka only curled up in silence, refusing to even eat. The only response she offered was to accept the kotteb toy and cling to it, shivering and sniffling until she fell asleep.</p>
<p>  After that, Klik had seriously considered marching back up to Riverside and finding out what it would take to make Plaskett and Dumont <em>cry</em>. Ultimately, however, she decided that would be a poor use of her energy. There had to be something wrong with those two; surely, other humans would be different. The better course of action, she thought, was to take Venka elsewhere, and work on Nune’s contract in the mean time.</p>
<p>  Klik tried to redirect her thoughts from rage and fury to the job at hand. She had shed her armor for a kilt, and racked her carbine for a laser pistol; now, to all appearances, she was just a common merchant.She needed to catch Khet ‘Vrath’s trail, and she had to do it without out alerting him—the hunter’s eternal conundrum.</p>
<p>  While it was entirely possible that ‘Vrath no longer had the arum, she doubted he would part with it. Not just yet, at least. There were plenty of valuable items he could have stolen. That he had chosen instead to take the arum suggested that ‘Vrath wasn’t terribly interested in money. His motives had been personal. Perhaps Nune had done something to slight him, or perhaps he disapproved of her choices, and wanted to punish his wayward cousin. Yes, he would keep the arum close.</p>
<p>  And he would probably brag about it.</p>
<p>  He had been smart about his exfil from Unza’u, but once he felt safe, he was certain to tire all four jaws boasting. That, Klik had long felt, was the Sangheili’s great weakness as a culture. They were so damn proud of themselves.</p>
<p>  She preened a little to cool her nerves, and resumed scrolling through local chatter on her data module. None of ‘Vrath’s associates had shown themselves in any of the bars she had visited, but she wasn’t particularly searching for them. That would show her hand too quickly. In fact, she wasn’t directly searching for the arum, either.</p>
<p>  Just when she began to tire of the bar’s atmosphere (if one could call it that), she spied what she had hoped for: A Yonhet trader.</p>
<p>  The Yonhet had never amounted to much in the eyes of the Hierarchs. They had no skill in warfare, and didn’t breed fast enough to make good cannon fodder. Instead, they were simply ground into subservience and tolerated. Many of them, however, had a certain talent for acquisition, and had carved out a niche as smugglers and traders. This one was well-dressed, though not so much as to make themself a target, and—according to the data Klik had trawled from the bar’s unsecured access point—was currently browsing auction sites for vintage goods.</p>
<p>  Klik ordered a melon cider from the bar, then strolled up to the Yonhet’s table. She made a sign of greeting and set down the drink. &lt;May I join you?&gt;</p>
<p>  The trader adjusted the damp scarf they wore around their gills, then returned the sign and beckoned her to sit. &lt;Please do. Might Omd know your name, friend?&gt; they asked, accepting the cider.</p>
<p>  &lt;I’m Isk Rham. Pleased to meet you.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;It is most agreeable to make your acquaintance, as well,&gt; replied Omd. Their Sangheili was quite good if a bit formal, but most Yonhet chose to err on the side of politeness.</p>
<p>  Klik leaned forward. &lt;Listen, I don’t want to take too much of your time, Omd. I’d like to investigate the curiosities market here, and you look like the sort of person who might know where I should start.&gt;</p>
<p>  They made a whistling sort of noise through their nostrils, and inclined their head. &lt;It would delight Omd to discuss such matters. What might you be interested in finding?&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;I have a client who collects Sangheili antiques,&gt; Klik said, laying the bait. &lt;Chaura pottery, Lodam textiles, and so on. Anything in the Old Rolam style.Do you carry anything like that? Or could you suggest some vendors, otherwise?&gt;</p>
<p>  Omd lifted the drink to their mouth and sipped. &lt;Omd does see many fine items pass through this port. Perhaps some of it may interest your client.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Such as?&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;An antique arum.&gt;</p>
<p>  She flattened her feathers. &lt;You mean those little trinkets that the Ontom monks practically throw at every passing traveler? <em>Tchk</em>. My client’s tastes may be broad, but they are very discerning.&gt; Klik rose from her seat. &lt;I’ll continue my own search. Enjoy your drink.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Wait, wait!&gt; Omd signed urgency. &lt;Omd would beseech you to merely look at the item.&gt;</p>
<p>  <em>And the trap is sprung.</em> Klik scrutinized them for precisely six seconds. &lt;Very well.&gt;</p>
<p>  Omd set their data module on the table, and displayed a fuzzy but familiar image.It was Nune’s arum. Klik didn’t let the excitement show in her bearing, and instead examined the image with a mix of mild interest and professional suspicion.</p>
<p>  &lt;Many years has Omd spent acquiring rare goods,&gt; they said, &lt;and never before seen such craftwork.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Hm.&gt; She scratched at an itch in her crest, taking her time to consider this. &lt;It’s not to my client’s usual taste, but that one does appear rather old. The patterning is interesting… How much for it?&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Sadly, this item is not in inventory. However, Omd would be glad to make a referral so that you may purchase it directly.&gt;</p>
<p>  That confirmed her suspicion that ‘Vrath still had the arum. She clacked her beak. &lt;Very well. I’ll buy your information. Twenty-five gekz.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Seventy-five if it pleases you, friend,&gt; countered Omd.</p>
<p>  Klik turned her head. &lt;It isn’t <em>that</em> nice.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Sixty gekz, then.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Fifty, and you have a deal.&gt;</p>
<p>  &lt;Done.&gt;</p>
<p>  They made the exchange, and Omd sent a data packet to Klik’s module.</p>
<p>  &lt;Please, enjoy this information at your leisure,&gt; they said.</p>
<p>  <em>Meaning: view it away from prying eyes.</em> &lt;I think I will. Thank you, Omd, you’ve been most helpful.&gt;</p>
<p>  They signed farewell, and took a deeper sip of their drink. &lt;Safe travels and good fortune to you, Isk Rham. And may the gods smile on your efforts.&gt;</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  How hideous it was to be alone against the vastness of the universe. Klik remembered that feeling all too well. She sat perched next to Venka’s nest, one arm stretched over it for added warmth, with her hand resting on the little human’s shoulder. It felt like a useless gesture, but it was all she could offer right now.</p><p>  <em>You made her a promise,</em> she thought grimly. <em>You were supposed to take her home, and all you’ve done is hurt her.</em></p><p>  She wanted to say something to ease the pain, to apologize for yesterday’s events, but she didn’t know where to begin; her vocabulary was too limited. Then again, she wasn’t sure what to say in her own language. How did one apologize for that kind of wound? She wouldn’t blame the nestling for hating her now. Rather than lashing out, however, Venka had only responded with silence and malaise. In some ways, that cut far deeper.</p><p>  Venka was awake now. Klik could tell by the subtle change in her breathing, though she lay still and pretended to sleep, with her face buried against her kotteb toy. Patches of its fabric were darkened from her crying. That had stopped last night, though Klik suspected it was only because the glands under her eyes had run dry.</p><p>  Feeling the nestling shiver under her hand, Klik fell to singing a nameless, wordless song. It was an old melody, older than the Covenant and its stranglehold on her people’s culture, older than their forays to the stars, and perhaps as old as the Kig-Yar themselves. Her mother had sung it for her and her siblings in the creche, just as her mother’s mother had before. Klik knew that she was singing mostly for her own benefit, taking comfort in the familiar notes, but Venka gradually fell still and relaxed as she sang. It seemed even an alien could find some peace in it.</p><p>  When she finished the song, Klik fetched some bread and <em>zuuk-shesh</em> from the ship’s stores. She laid a portion of it within Venka’s reach; she could eat when she was ready. Klik tore off a piece of bread for herself, and got out her data module to study the information she had bought from Omd. She kept her beak pointed at the module, but she caught movement in her peripheral vision and noticed that the bread had disappeared. Without a word, she laid down another piece.</p><p>  “<em>’M sorry…</em>”</p><p>  The words were so soft that she almost missed them. Klik tilted her head and gave an inquisitive <em>chrrrr-kwork</em>. Venka had poked her head out of the blankets just far enough to eat, and she trembled slightly as if expecting some kind of reprisal.</p><p>  “For getting you in trouble,” she said between sniffles.</p><p>  “Trouble?” Klik repeated.</p><p>  “Yesterday. Everyone got mad at you because of me. I’m really sorry.”</p><p>  Klik shook her head. “No. No sorry.” Before Venka could speak again, she bumped her snout into the nestling’s shoulder gently. “Am being sorry to <em>Venka</em>.”</p><p>  The nestling shifted and looked up at her with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “But… those people said…”</p><p>  “Those people <em>bad</em> and <em>mean</em>. Heads full of rocks,” Klik asserted. “Was mistake to going there. Am sorry of this. Have hurted Venka in liver,” she croaked ruefully. It was a horribly insufficient apology, and it wouldn’t ease the pain, but she hoped that the nestling would understand.</p><p>  Venka wrinkled her brow and rubbed at her eyes. “Liver?”</p><p>  “Yes.” Klik tapped a claw against her own abdomen. “Liver is place of feelings. Having hurt there when feelings are sad.” She clacked her beak softly as another thought occurred to her. “Humans <em>do</em> having liver, yes?”</p><p>  “Yeah,” Venka replied, lying back down, “but we keep our feelings in our <em>hearts</em>.”</p><p>  “Hm. Kig-Yar heart having blood only.” She laid her hand down beside Venka’s. The human wrapped one paw around her fingers. <em>I’ll make this right. I </em>will<em> find you a home.</em></p><p>* * *</p><p>  They left Karava without ceremony. This time, however, Klik had let Venka remain in the cockpit; it was a small consolation for the pain. Venka sat in the long-disused copilot’s seat, paws clutched at the restraints, while she stared wide-eyed out the viewports as they broke through the thick atmosphere and into the stars.</p><p>  Unfortunately, the interesting part of the trip was short. Klik keyed in the coordinates of their next location, and <em>Calamity</em> eased into slipspace: a reality devoid of sight or sound, and emptier even than the furthest reaches of normal space. A low tone sounded from the ship once they were in the portal, and Klik reached over to release the restraint on Venka’s seat.</p><p>  Venka hopped down and went to the viewport, cupping her paws against it as she tried to peer out into the emptiness. She stepped back almost immediately and wobbled a little on her feet. Even those who didn’t feel dizzy from making the jump often suffered a bit of vertigo if they looked too closely at their surroundings—or lack thereof.</p><p>  It seemed liked you could fall forever into the nothingness. Klik had always felt that there was something sinister about slipspace, as if the void called to something deep in her mind, and might pull her in if she stared too long. Foolish superstition, she told herself, but she avoided gazing out the windows all the same.</p><p>  “Is it like this the whole way?” Venka asked.</p><p>  “Yes.”</p><p>  She took another step back and regarded the viewport again, almost suspiciously, then went back into the cabin. A moment later, Klik heard her bouncing the ball against the cabin wall; her curiosity was sated. Thankfully, the trip would be short. Their next stop was little more than a day’s journey out, and that was where Klik hoped to find her target.</p><p>  Khet ‘Vrath had indeed been bragging about his exploits. The trader, Omd, had spied him in a bar a few days prior, showing off his trophy to a few companions. When Omd had approached ‘Vrath and asked to buy the arum, however, he and his friends had drunkenly roared in their face. Wisely, they had taken that for a “no.”</p><p>  To the casual observer, Omd’s recording showed nothing but a trio of ill-mannered Sangheili. To Klik, it was a treasure trove of information. ‘Vrath’s data module sat on the table by his drink, with a map half-visible on its screen. The Sangheili on his left was a shipmaster by the name of Lytan ‘Sakua. To his right, sat Ize ‘Kulma, a pro-Covenant agitator. Each of these threads came together in one place: Khael’mothka, a Sangheili world embroiled in civil war.</p><p>  For hundreds of years, the Sangheili had wielded their power within the Covenant like a sword against other species—until the very weapon they had forged was plunged into their backs. Now they were bickering over that sword before the wound had even healed. Part of her found the irony delicious. Part of her found it pitiable that so many of them were still eager to fight and die in the Covenant’s name.</p><p>  The politics of other species were only an occupational hazard, however, not a matter of personal investment for her. She had better things to worry about on her journey, such as how to best occupy a human nestling for thirty hours.</p><p>  Klik locked <em>Calamity’s</em> controls and stepped out of the cockpit. She padded by quietly as Venka continued bouncing her ball, then darted forward and swiped it. Venka gasped and wheeled after her.</p><p>  “Is belong of <em>me</em>, now!” She held the ball aloft in one hand, uttering a playful <em>wek wek wek</em>.</p><p>  For an instant, Venka stood frozen. Then her eyes watered and her face grew red. She lowered her gaze to the floor, dejected.</p><p>  <em>Dammit.</em></p><p>  “Here, here, here.” Klik crouched down and hurriedly pressed the ball back into her hands, but the tears had already started. “Sorry. Not taking ball forever, no. Is game, only.”</p><p>  Venka rubbed at her eyes, trying to dry them with her sleeve.</p><p>  “Am sorry,” she said, touching the end of her beak to Venka’s shoulder. “Will not taking ball again.”</p><p>  The nestling leaned into her touch slightly and nodded. “Do you… want to play together?” Venka asked uncertainly.</p><p>  Klik beamed. “Would liking that the most.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>  The lights of Khael’mothka’s few settlements dotted the night-side of the planet like dying candle flames. A white-burning star drowned out their light with its own as it streaked across the atmosphere—a CRS-class light cruiser, engulfed in plasma fire. A swarm of fighters encircled its corpse like flies, nipping and tearing at each other. Further out, a battered corvette plunged one final spear through the cruiser before engaging its stealth and melting into the night.</p><p>  Klik made a wide, careful arc around to the daylight side of the planet. It was unlikely that either faction in this civil war had the resources to chase down a single Ren shuttle, but there was no sense in being careless. She followed the map she had pieced together from Omd’s recording and put down in the wilderness southeast of a besieged town. A series of dry gorges there created a natural maze, the perfect place to hide <em>Calamity</em>.</p><p>  Venka hadn’t been terribly happy with being told to wait, but she didn’t seem eager to leave the familiarity of the ship again. A good, full meal and a song had helped her fall asleep. Once the sun began to set, Klik left the ship and slipped out into the dusk to begin her work.</p><p>  Although clients from other species often called her a bounty hunter, that was an overly narrow description of her profession. Klik was a <em>rehathi</em>, a troubleshooter. Anyone could fire a gun; the service she offered was solving problems.</p><p>  At present, she needed to solve the problem of getting close enough to Khet ‘Vrath to reclaim the arum. After that came the bonus of finding a way to make his life uncomfortable on Nune’s behalf.</p><p>  <em>One thing at a time,</em> Klik reminded herself coolly.</p><p>  The smell of burnt metal, scorched earth, and Sangheili blood permeated the air as she approached the frontier town. Ash stained the streets and plasma fires still burned in the wreckage of a red-and-white painted Wraith. Klik stopped to scoop up some ash and smeared it across her face and armor, then mussed up her crest feathers.</p><p>  As she proceeded into the town center, she spotted a Kig-Yar patrol. Their armament and armor were mismatched, and none of them wore any signifiers of rank. It was a mercenary squad. Klik waited in the shadow of a caved-in building until they passed by, then fell in with their formation. The rearmost one, a scarred Ruuhtian, noticed her approach and turned around with a hiss, plasma pistol at the ready.</p><p>  Klik croaked a friendly melody. &lt;Easy there,&gt; she muttered in Ruuht dialect. She gestured with her beak at the Sangheili warriors milling about further afield.</p><p>  The Ruuhtian’s quills fanned forward in warning. &lt;You’re not part of our squad.&gt; In contrast to the plumage pattern, she spoke with feminine grammar. &lt;What do you want?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I heard the four-jaws here are paying well. Who do I need to see to sign up?&gt; Klik slipped a small pack of dried insects from a pouch on her belt and passed it to the Ruuhtian.</p><p>  She scrutinized Klik for a moment, then clacked her beak as she slipped the package into her pocket. &lt;We’re heading back to camp after this sweep. Rren got turned into purple mist earlier, so just take his spot. The commanders will never notice the difference.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;He was T’vaoan?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Nope. Ibei’shan,&gt; she replied.</p><p>  The patrols found few survivors:a handful of wounded soldiers in the Arbiter’s colors, and an elderly Sangheili couple who had hidden in the cellar of their home. The Covenant warriors dragged all of them out into the center of town for execution; each death brought jubilant cries. Meanwhile, the Kig-Yarmercenaries milled around the Spirits, waiting with obvious boredom for the spectacle to end. Klik mimicked them, never flinching as the Covenant painted the street with their victims’ blood.</p><p>  When the Spirits lifted off, Klik finally saw what the believers had written. Beside the old couple’s bodies, was the glyph for salvation.</p><p> </p><p>  It was a mercifully short jaunt back to the war camp, and Klik disembarked the Spirit alongside the rest of the mercenaries with familiar nonchalance. At the camp’s entrance, a pair of Sangheili Minors stood guard, waving the returning troops through in single file. As she approached, one of them stepped into her path and glared. Klik put on her best piteous snivel, cringing under his gaze. The sentries glanced at each other, then down at her again. The one blocking her growled and pointed to the eastern edge of the camp.</p><p>  &lt;Get on overwatch with the other snipers.&gt;</p><p>  While she had styled herself like a merchant on Karava, she needed no such disguise here. There was enough call for mercenaries on this frontier world that she didn’t warrant a second look. The machinery of empire had always run on blood, after all, and those at the helm were never keen to spill their own. To go unnoticed, she simply had to keep her head down and play the greedy, cowardly scavenger so many Sangheili assumed her species to be.</p><p>  Klik made her way through the camp, and scampered up the jagged hill behind it to the spot that the Minor had indicated. Nestling down into a cleft in the rocks, she set her rifle on its mount as if to provide overwatch. Ten meters north, a faint glint revealed the position of another Kig-Yar sniper on the same duty. Slowly, she swept her gaze across the camp and committed its layout to memory. It hadn’t been operational long. The barracks were little more than tents, and the one real building—most likely the command center—seemed hastily constructed. She noted that there were no latrines yet; instead, soldiers merely walked past the nebulous bounds of the camp to relieve themselves.</p><p>  That might provide her an opportunity to corner ‘Vrath for the arum. Otherwise, her best bet would be to sneak into his tent while he was gone or sleeping, and retrieve it.</p><p>  Between the barracks and an open stretch of ground that looked like a sparring yard, lay a large fire pit surrounded by benches. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, more and more of the Sangheili gathered for their evening meal. They were reveling in their recent victory with fresh-caught game and wine.</p><p>  <em>Wonder how many heads I could split before they caught me…</em></p><p>  She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. There was work to be done, and she could not afford to be distracted with such fantasies. Klik turned her scope and her listening equipment toward the gathering.</p><p>  &lt;You believe it, then?&gt; someone asked. &lt;That the Holy Rings are weapons?&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Oh, yes. I’m quite convinced that the Heretic is right about that.&gt;</p><p>  With a little bit of tuning, she narrowed in on the second speaker, a warrior in distinctive maroon armor. It was Ize ‘Kulma, one of her target’s associates. Klik flattened her feathers. She knew he was a fanatic; she hadn’t realized he was a Zealot.</p><p>  &lt;But does the Rings’ purpose diminish the power and might of the gods? Does it tarnish their glory?&gt; ‘Kulma paused for effect and scanned the fire-lit faces of the other warriors.&lt;No. It only means that the <em>Prophets</em> were wrong. Our ancestors worshiped the gods long before the San’Shyuum arrived. This is simply a return to the path we were always meant to tread.</p><p>  &lt;We have passed a crucible, brothers. We have cleansed the Covenant of unworthy species. Once we snuff out the Arbiter’s heresy, we can pursue the gods’ will unfettered.&gt;</p><p>  Several of the listeners voiced raucous approval and knocked back their wine in agreement. Klik looked over the crowd. At the far end of the circle, almost opposite ‘Kulma, she spotted Khet ‘Vrath. He was wearing his combat harness, but Klik couldn’t see if he still had the stealth module he had used while on Unza’u.</p><p>  &lt;Bah! The Arbiter will make his own downfall,&gt; laughed a Major. &lt;He’s letting <em>females</em> fight.&gt;</p><p>  ‘Vrath grumbled assent and tossed something back and forth in his hands idly. Its polished surface glinted brilliantly in the firelight. The arum. &lt;Even the ones who aren’t fighting are starting to get funny ideas.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Are you certain you should be showing that off everywhere you go?&gt; asked the Major.</p><p>  &lt;Why not?&gt; ‘Vrath snarled. &lt;It’s mine.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I think Vys ‘Karalak might disagree.&gt;</p><p>  Klik thought she must have misheard the name. As she hurried to adjust her equipment, ‘Vrath’s mandibles twitched in momentary apprehension. There was no mistake. He scowled again.</p><p>  &lt;Vys is <em>dead</em>.&gt;</p><p>  A low chuckle rumbled from an Ultra behind him. &lt;Oh, he’s alive alright. I saw him,&gt; said the warrior. &lt;Or rather… what the Brutes left of him.&gt;</p><p>  ‘Vrath eyed the newest speaker, then glanced down to the arum. He rolled it back and forth between his fingers in one hand. &lt;Then I suppose he might be grateful to have this back.&gt; His upper jaws splayed in a wicked grin. &lt;He might also like to hear what his little wife has been up to lately…&gt;</p><p>  Klik watched and waited as the warriors continued with their prattle and their meal. She hung on their every word now, hoping to catch more about Vys ‘Karalak, but no one broached the subject again.</p><p>  Eventually, the drink ran out and the fire began to burn low, and ‘Vrath made his exit. Rather than returning to the makeshift barracks, however, he strolled past them. Sensing opportunity, Klik slipped away from her position and followed him from along the ridge line.</p><p>  He took his time, perhaps walking off the heavy meal, and finally came to a stop by a wind-gnarled log at the base of a cliff. ‘Vrath stretched lazily, then took a seat and rooted around in the pouch on his belt. Klik watched through her scope as he produced a small vial of <em>iru’gam</em>, and applied it to the inner edges of his mandibles.</p><p>  The fool had just made her job easier.</p><p>  She slipped down from her perch and crept low through the underbrush. The aroma of roasted meat and alcohol clung to him, along with the fetid, mildewy scent of the drug. After a few minutes of waiting, ‘Vrath’s posture began to shift into the telltale slump of an <em>iru’gam</em> daze. At that point, Klik dispensed with stealth and strolled up to him.</p><p>  He lolled his head around as she came to a stop in front of him. His pupils were dilated and his mandibles slack. &lt;Whaddaya want, ssscavenger?&gt; he slurred.&lt;‘M <em>busy</em>.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;I have a message for you,&gt; she replied, and hopped closer.</p><p>  &lt;Eh? Out wi’ it, then.&gt;</p><p>  Klik unsheathed her knife and plunged it into his eye. &lt;Nune doesn’t tolerate thieves.&gt;</p><p>  As ‘Vrath howled and jerked his head back, she kicked him square in the breastbone. There was a loud crack, and he tumbled off the log and onto his ass. She shook the viscera from her knife and slipped it back into its scabbard.</p><p>  ‘Vrath scrambled to get back on his feet, one hand clutched over his ruined eye. As he rose, Klik hopped up onto the log and kicked him again, this time raking her talons across his face and hand. She could feel tendons shred. Pained and enraged, ‘Vrath lunged forward and swiped at her, but his adrenaline couldn’t compensate for the effects of the drug. Klik dodged his swing easily, and snapped off a carbine round into his knee. With another scream of agony, ‘Vrath crumpled to the ground. Klik kicked his shoulder to roll him onto his back, then grabbed the pouch from his belt.</p><p>  &lt;Aren’t you a warrior?&gt; she asked, fishing out the arum. Klik glared down at him and stuffed the bag into his open mouth. &lt;Stop screaming.&gt;</p><p>  Shouts rose from the camp, and a trio of Sangheili appeared outlined against the firelight. Other warriors were responding to the scuffle. Klik spared a glance back at ‘Vrath and kicked a spray of dirt onto his face.</p><p>  &lt;Remember who sent me!&gt; she cackled before loping off into the darkness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>After this chapter, I'm taking a little break from "Unkindness" to continue working on my other Halo story, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105395">"Iron &amp; Gold."</a> It's about Roland, artificial intelligence, and daily life aboard the UNSC <em>Infinity</em>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Venka was hanging from the ceiling.</p><p>  Klik stepped through <em>Calamity’s</em> hatch and watched as the nestling kicked her wiry legs in the air, and tried to pull herself up by the latch of the overhead food storage. As the hatch closed and the lights went up in the cabin, Venka finally noticed her.</p><p>  “Uh.” She averted her eyes immediately, and frowned. “Hi, Klik.”</p><p>  <em>Well, she’s certainly regaining her strength.</em> Klik suppressed a laugh. “Needing a help?”</p><p>  She stopped struggling with the latch and let her arms go slack, but seemed unwilling to drop to the floor. “…Yes, please.”</p><p>  With a chortle, Klik walked over and put her hands under Venka’s arms to catch her as she let go. She let Venka down, then racked her weapons. “Why awake? Having a hunger?”</p><p>  “Yeah. I’m sorry,” Venka said, looking down at her feet. “I know I should be asleep. I <em>was</em> asleep.”</p><p>  “Sleep important. But can being wake for small time. Have a food, a drink. Then maybe feel sleep again, yes?”</p><p>  She nodded and sat down on the bench. “Thank you.”</p><p>  “What wanting, you?” Klik asked, as she reached up and unlocked the food store.</p><p>  “<em>Heko</em>, please.”</p><p>  Klik handed her one of the fruits and got out a strip of cured meat for each of them. She tore into the meat. “Work here all done. Wanting to see ship going?” Klik offered, moving to the cockpit.</p><p>  Venka nodded, her mouth still full of fruit, and scampered after her to the copilot’s seat. She buckled herself in this time, and eagerly awaited the takeoff.</p><p>  “This very fast. Ready?”</p><p>  “Ready!” Venka clutched the restraints with both paws and stared out the viewport determinedly.</p><p>  <em>Calamity’s</em> engines came to life with a hum, and they took off like a shot. Venka let out a squeak as the acceleration pushed her back into the seat, but she was smiling. They raced through the gorges, then skimmed east across the open scrubland for a few thousand kilometers. Deciding she’d put enough distance between them and the Covenant camp, Klik adjusted the controls and <em>Calamity</em> pulled up in a graceful arc. They broke atmosphere as Khael’mothka’s sun peeked over the edge of the world. Venka stared down at the planet they’d left behind, all marbled blue and brown and white. It quickly shrank in their view and stars filled the expanse.</p><p>  “Thanks for letting me watch.” Venka turned back to her. “Hey, you’re all dirty.”</p><p>  Klik smoothed out her crest. “Yes. Is for to hide,” she explained. “Will bathing soon.”</p><p>  “How come you had to hide?”</p><p>  She regarded Venka with one eye, trying to formulate a reply that would satisfy a child’s curiosity. She looked back to the controls. “Must sneaking. Am have job to find arum. <em>Very</em> secret.”</p><p>  Venka’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed. “What’s an arum?”</p><p>  A warning from the sensor suite cut off her reply. A Type-27 fighter had just appeared on scope. Then another. And another. Klik pushed <em>Calamity</em> into a spiraling dive just in time to miss a blast of the Banshee’s fuel rod cannon.</p><p>  Space rippled ahead of her, and the stars suddenly disappeared. A shimmering expanse of purple nanolaminate took their place. It was the corvette she had seen on arrival.</p><p>  Klik pulled a hard half-loop to avoid slamming into one of its struts, then gunned the throttle. Another cannon burst streaked past <em>Calamity’s</em> nose, and a volley of plasma scored one of its wings. Venka shrieked.</p><p>  Alarms sounded in the cockpit as the Banshees closed in. Feeling her pulse race, Klik hit a random set of coordinates, and jumped. Slipspace enveloped <em>Calamity</em>, and the world around them disappeared. Klik counted the seconds in her head, then dropped back into normal space. She peeled away from the exit point and slipped again, like skipping a stone across a pond. After repeating the procedure once more, <em>Calamity</em> finally dropped out near a small nebula.</p><p>  She turned and looked at Venka. All the pinkness had drained out of the nestling’s face, and she was breathing hard, as if she had just been running. Klik reached over and unlocked Venka’s seat restraint, then unlatched her own.</p><p>  Venka tumbled out of the seat and onto her hands and knees unsteadily. Almost as quickly, she was back on her feet, and ran back into the cabin. Klik hopped out of the pilot’s seat and followed. Venka had buried herself in her nest.</p><p>  “Is safe now,” Klik said, placing her hands on Venka’s quivering shoulders. “Safe, yes. Enemies all gone. But is okay to having a fear.”</p><p>  Although she nodded, Venka didn’t seem any calmer. Klik coaxed her up into a sitting position, then gave Venka her canteen, and chortled to her gently.</p><p>  Venka gulped down some water. She gave a sputtering cough, then drank more slowly. “Wh- what was that?” she asked, turning to look up at Klik. “They were shooting at us! Why did they shoot at us? We didn’t do anything!”</p><p>  “There is being war between Sangheili. <em>Elites</em>.”</p><p>  “But… you’re not an Elite.”</p><p>  “Fighters don’t caring. They seeing ship? They shooting.” With a soft croon, Klik handed the kotteb to her, then moved closer and held Venka gently. “But, we am hiding. Hide is good.”</p><p>  She clutched the toy and petted through its mane, nodding. “You’re sure we’re safe…?”</p><p>  “Yes. None can finding us.”</p><p>  They sat together for a few minutes more, until Venka’s breathing had calmed and she stopped shivering.</p><p>  “Am checking ship now, okay? Making safe,” Klik explained.</p><p>  As she stood, a wave of exhaustion swept over her, like the surf pulling at her feet as it rushed back out to sea. She blinked away some of the weariness and rolled her shoulders before returning to the cockpit. This day felt entirely too long.</p><p>  A faint pit-pat-pat followed her as she approached the console. She hadn’t expected Venka to feel brave enough to leave the security of her nest, but the little human watched from the doorway of the cockpit, holding her kotteb. Klik brought up the ship readouts.</p><p>  <em>Calamity’s</em> port-side wing had taken structural damage. Frustrated, Klik raised her crest and shook her feathers as she examined the readouts. The power conduit from that engine was still intact, but there was a breach in the outer plating, and the wing’s hinge mechanism had taken a hit and fused. The wing could no longer fold closed against the fuselage. It wasn’t a major problem now, but it could become an issue if she didn’t address it soon.</p><p>  “Ship wing is breaked,” she said, indicating the readout as she looked back at Venka. Klik hoped that understanding would help ease her anxiety. “Very small. Not danger. But must fixing.”</p><p>  The nestling padded closer, then stood up on her toes to get a better look at the schematic. “What are you gonna do?”</p><p>  Klik tapped her claws against the console. Although she knew the locations of several Covenant shipyards, she had no any idea who controlled them now. The Yanme’e back on Unza’u could take care of a job like this, but if the Covenant splinter from Khael’mothka decided to pursue her, that would be the first place they’d check. She needed to go somewhere else for a little while, somewhere unexpected.</p><p>  Klik brought up a star map. “Will going to planet, name of Binterall. Close. Can fixing there.”</p><p>  The nestling nodded, staring at the map. She waved a hand through the hologram curiously, as if she could scoop up the stars in her palm.</p><p>  “Binterall is place of humans,” Klik said idly. “…Maybe Venka like?”</p><p>  Venka met Klik’s gaze then looked back at the map. “Maybe,” she mumbled, raising and dropping her shoulders. Klik made a mental note to research the meaning of that gesture.</p><p>* * *</p><p>  Binterall had a certain reputation for attracting people who were not terribly interested in authority. It was a parched world, where the atmosphere was hazy with dust and the plant life jutted up from the ground like lonely, twisted sculptures. Although Binterall was legally in the hands of the UNSC, its denizens had chosen anarchy in the truest definition. No unreachable gods, no sanctimonious prophets, and no military to enforce the laws of a neglectful government. It was the kind of place where Klik felt right at home.</p><p>  As an added bonus, the planet’s capital, Port Joy, was a frequent stop for salvagers and privateers who hoped to find obscurity. That kept the local scrapyards well-stocked. Ships of human make were most common there, as salvagers picked over the husks of vessels broken during the war, but common parts from Covenant ships had been trickling in over the last few months.</p><p>  Klik paced around <em>Calamity’s</em> open wing, tracing a claw along the edges of the nanolaminate plates to check for gaps. It was good work. She looked back at the mechanics—a stout human with short, flame-red fur, and a scarred old Sangheili. The Sangheili motioned for her to step back, then spoke a few words to his colleague.</p><p>  The human mechanic grinned and tapped at the controller in their hands, and the wing slid shut against the fuselage with barely a hiss. They opened it once more, in conjunction with the other wing, then closed both. Klik had never thought she would see a human working on Covenant ships, but perhaps their overabundance of fingers proved useful.</p><p>  &lt;Hm. This is acceptable,&gt; she said mildly. In truth, she was more than a little impressed.</p><p>The human spoke up in a language Klik didn’t recognize. After listening for a moment, the Sangheili gave a slow, exasperated shake of his head.</p><p>  &lt;<em>Hraff</em>…&gt; he snorted. &lt;My assistant wants to know if you’ve ever thought about putting weapons on your ship.&gt;</p><p>  &lt;Sure. Ask if they can fit in a ventral beam.&gt;</p><p>  Another snort. &lt;Please, don’t <em>encourage</em> them.&gt;</p><p>  Klik settled her bill, then took her leave and walked back into the ship. Venka was lying on her back on the floor of the cabin, and turning something around in her paws. “Did they finish fixing the ship?”</p><p>  “Yes.” Klik shook a bit of dust from her feathers. She and Venka had taken their second meal when the repairs began, and it was nearing time for a third, now. “Want to eating now?”</p><p>  “Yeah!” The nestling pushed herself up, and Klik now saw what she held. It wasn’t the ball, as she first thought. Venka was playing with the arum.</p><p>  Klik’s crest flared up, but she suppressed the startled noise rising in her throat. Venka didn’t understand such things. Instead, Klik walked over and crouched down beside her.</p><p>  “Giving this, please,” she said, and held out her hand.</p><p>  Venka blinked and placed it in her upturned palm. Her expression was difficult to read, but her body language had grown tense.</p><p>  “Thank,” Klik said, nudging her beak into Venka’s hand. “Venka not in a trouble, but this not being for <em>play</em>. Must taking to employer. You understanding?”</p><p>  “I’m sorry. I thought it was a toy…” Venka sat up, and tucked her knees up against her chest. She always seemed to make herself smaller when she felt as though she’d done wrong.</p><p>  <em>Poor thing.</em> Klik looked at the arum, then Venka. “Liking this?”</p><p>  After a moment’s pause, she nodded.</p><p>  “Will buying new arum for Venka, okay? Can playing with that so much, yes.”</p><p>  Without warning, the nestling threw her arms around Klik’s waist. “Thank you!”</p><p>  As Klik returned the embrace with her free arm, she heard a soft <em>clink</em> and felt something rattle out of the arum and into her hand. She set the sphere down and peered more closely at what had fallen out. Arums typically contained small gems or beads as a prize for solving them. This was no such trinket.</p><p>  It was a prism—only as long as one of her talons, and made of an impossibly slick-looking metal that oozed blue light from the grooves snaking across its surface. It didn’t feel cold against her skin as she expected, nor did it warm from the heat of her palm; it maintained its own temperature. While she had never seen material like this so close, she recognized it instantly.</p><p>  Forerunner technology.</p><p>  No wonder Nune had wanted the arum back so badly. She’d been using it to hide this artifact—whatever it was—in plain sight. Klik wondered if ‘Vrath had known what the puzzle contained. This artifact could be worth a fortune, even if it did nothing at all. Klik turned it over in her claws, staring at it while shimmering thoughts grew in her mind.</p><p>  <em>No. No, it’s too risky.</em></p><p>  She dashed the idea immediately. Stealing this would get her killed—if she was lucky. The Sangheili males around that fire in the warcamp only respected the power of a sword or a gun. But a sword could be parried, a gun could be evaded. Nune ‘Karalak was the kind of person who could ruin your life and the lives of your clan’s next four generations from the comfort of her office. That was <em>real</em> power.</p><p>  Klik picked up the arum again and inspected it for damage. To her surprise, it hadn’t been cracked open—it had been solved. “Venka doing this?”</p><p>  “Yeah.” She pressed her blunt teeth to her lower lip; a curious movement. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”</p><p>  “No. Not wrong at all.” Klik chortled. “Such clever of you!”</p><p>  The nestling positively beamed.</p><p>  “But. Can closing again, maybe?” She slipped the artifact back inside the arum and handed it to Venka. “Must returning like the same.”</p><p>  “You mean, you want it back the way you found it?” Venka began manipulating the arum again. She slid the pieces of the innermost sphere closed again, then began turning and sliding the next one into place.</p><p>  “Yes, yes. Please. Then we getting a food.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>  Klik and Venka wove their way through the narrow, twisting streets of Port Joy. It was a dense, crowded place (unsurprising given that it was built atop a mesa), but it was not half as dangerous as rumors purported it to be. While Binterall was anarchic, it was not lawless or completely chaotic. Most of the humans—and increasingly, other species—who had settled here wished to lead quiet, normal lives. After all, someone had to run the ranches, staff the shops, and manage the utility plants.</p><p>  There was no doubt that this was a rough world. Klik had seen her share of frontier colonies and under-developed planets, and held no illusions about the struggles they faced. But nice, comfortable human planets seldom took kindly to Kig-Yar visitors—especially one like her. Binterall, or a place very like it, was probably the best she would be able to do for Venka. She kept a firm hold of the nestling’s hand as they emerged into the open town square.</p><p>  <em>Where do little lost humans go?</em> Klik pondered.</p><p>  Among her kind, a nestling could go to any door and expect to be fed and sheltered until its parents or other kin were found. Humans, apparently, had a more convoluted protocol.</p><p>  Klik scanned the town square, lifting her head and letting her beak gape as she took in the delicious melange of scents. Baking and roasting and grilling and frying things. Sweet and savory and spicy things. Exotic human foods and more familiar fare. It was hard to choose where to begin.</p><p>  She looked down at Venka, who was taking in the scene with wide eyes, a mixture of caution and excitement evident in her posture. “What you wanting?” Klik asked. She gestured with her beak to the food stalls. “Venka can choosing.”</p><p>  “Really?” the nestling gasped, grinning. She darted over to a nearby food stall, slipping out of Klik’s grasp in her haste.</p><p>  “<em>Wok!</em>” Klik dashed after her. “Don’t running off,” she said, catching up. “Almost losed you!”<br/>
Venka hugged herself and looked down at the ground. “Sorry…”</p><p>  “Danger to running off. Yes?” She sighed and gently turned Venka by the shoulder toward the food stall. “Now. Wanting this foods?”</p><p>  The nestling gave an eager nod.</p><p>  Klik straightened her posture and relaxed her feathers as she stepped up to the counter. She caught a whiff of colo meat as she gave an open-mouthed sniff of the air, along with several alien meats. She tilted her head, scrutinizing the images of food that adorned the sign above the stall. While the images looked appetizing, she didn’t recognize any of the dishes and she couldn’t read any of the human script accompanying them.</p><p>  The cook looked up from their work as she approached and gave her a wary, sidelong glance. “You want something?” They reached over and thumped a hand on the top of a large, sealed bin. A poorly-scrawled line of tri-script across the front read, <em>JACKALS ONLY.</em> “I’ve got colo, goat, and pork entrails—slow-cooked and aged two weeks. I take credits and gekz.”</p><p>  Her mouth watered at the thought, but she composed herself. Her order could wait. “One food, please,” Klik said, pointing at Venka, “for she.”</p><p>  The cook’s expression changed instantly as Venka peered over the counter. They seemed surprised, but quickly showed their teeth—a smile, Klik thought—and looked down at Venka. “Hello, there. What can I get for you?”</p><p>  “Uhm…” Venka looked back at Klik briefly for reassurance. “I… Um… ‘M not sure,” she murmured, shying back from the counter.</p><p>  “Do you like elote?” they asked, gesturing to some manner of yellow vegetable on a stick.</p><p>  “I dunno…” she murmured.</p><p>  “I’ve got barbecue, kebabs, sandwiches. Do any of those sound good?”</p><p>  Venka made that odd up-and-down gesture with her shoulders again.</p><p>  “How about this—what do you like to eat at home?” they asked. “What sort of things does your family make for you?”</p><p>  Venka shrank into herself and shook her head back and forth.</p><p>  “Where’s your home planet? Maybe I know something you’d like.”</p><p>  She looked down at the ground, then back at Klik.</p><p>  Klik laid both hands on her shoulders soothingly and gave a soft chortle, then fixed the cook with an irritable stare. The questions were obviously rough ground for the nestling. “Just want a food,” she growled.</p><p>  The cook stood up straighter. “You know, I try to keep an open mind,” they hummed, reaching under the counter. “But I can’t think of a single good reason for a scared little kid to be in the company of a Jackal.” Locking eyes with Klik, they laid a human-made gun on the counter. “You’ve got thirty seconds to convince me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huge thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotDogHowitzer/pseuds/HotDogHowitzer">HotDogHowitzer</a> for helping me tie up this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Klik stood motionless, pulse pounding in her ears above the din of the town square. Half of her screamed to attack, but another half urged patience. She didn’t understand these aliens, and reacting rashly could endanger Venka. Perhaps this was all a misunderstanding.</p><p>  She lifted her hands from Venka’s shoulders. “This being mistake,” she said, flattening her feathers against her body to appear less threatening. “Am don’t doing hurts to Venka. Am helps only.”</p><p>  The cook raised their eyebrows and put one hand on their hip. The other rested on the weapon as they leaned on the counter.</p><p>  “Oh, <em>really?</em> That's a new one.” Their tone had a note that Klik had learned to interpret as mockery. They stared at Klik for a long moment, then made a popping sound with their lips and chuckled. “Okay, then.” They gestured with the hand that had been at their hip. “Let's hear it. What in the outer colonies are you doing with this poor kid?”</p><p>  “Am taking Venka to safe,” Klik responded. She kept one eye on the cook’s right arm, alert for any sign they planned to draw.</p><p>  The cook leaned forward, one hand still on the gun and the other braced on the counter as they scowled at Klik. “Anything you <em>buzzards</em> don't eat, you sell.” They paused, making sure to look Klik straight in the eye. “I'll give you one more chance, and don't <em>lie</em> this time.”</p><p>  Something tugged at the hem of her kilt, and Klik glanced down to see Venka clinging to her tightly.</p><p>  “It’s not a lie!” The little nestling was half-hidden behind her, but had leaned far enough to glare at the cook. “Klik is good!”</p><p>  “Good?” The cook repeated, looking down as if they had forgotten Venka was there.</p><p>  Klik felt her nod in response.</p><p>  The cook sighed and rubbed their face with one hand. They straightened up and slid the gun off the counter, finger held away from the trigger.</p><p>  “Kid, you have no idea what you're dealing with. This Jackal— It’s not your friend,” they said as they came around one side of the counter. They half-knelt with the weapon slung across their thigh, and held out their free hand toward Venka. “Where’s your family? They're probably worried sick about you. Where do you live?”</p><p>  Venka scooted back behind Klik again as if she were a shield, and didn’t offer to answer.</p><p>  “Don’t having home, now. Finded Venka on glass world, alone,” Klik said. She pulled her head back and took on a semi-submissive posture. The cook didn’t seem eager to use their gun, and she wanted to keep it that way. “Was place name of… Troy, yes?” That should settle things, she reasoned.</p><p>  “Troy. You found her on <em>Troy?</em>” The cook lowered their hand and scowled at her. “I don't know how dumb you think I am, Jackal, but <em>adults</em> almost never survive a glassing, let alone kids. And last time I heard, Troy wasn't worth digging out.” He turned his attention back to Venka, addressing her directly. “Where are you from?”</p><p>  Venka let out a startled squeak. “I <em>am</em> from Troy,” she answered skittishly. “W-we moved. To Asmara.” She sounded close to crying, but put a little more strength into her voice. “Klik saved me from Brutes there!”</p><p>  For several tense seconds, the cook studied the two of them. Finally, they sighed and got to their feet. “If you say so… Probably best not to cause a scene, anyway,” they muttered as returned to their stall. The gun disappeared back under the counter.</p><p>  Venka tugged at Klik’s arm urgently. “Let’s go,” she whispered, eyeing the cook. “<em>He’s mean.</em>”</p><p>  Klik crouched down next to her and took Venka’s paw in her hand. “Here,” she said, counting out some tokens. She bumped her snout into the nestling’s shoulder. “Buy a food you want. But! Staying close, yes?”</p><p>  She nodded. “I will.” Venka clutched the money, and cautiously made her way to the next closest food stall.</p><p>  With one eye on her, Klik returned her attention to the cook. Rather poor customer service, she thought, but she’d had worse. She laid out a few gekz on the counter, and pointed at the sealed bin.</p><p>  “One kilo. Pork.”</p><p>  He seemed surprised, but nodded and donned a pair of thick gloves. “Coming right up,” he replied, scrunching up his face as he opened the bin of aged meats. He scooped a pungent serving of organs into a paper dish and handed it to her. Strangely, it looked like he was trying not to breathe in the delicious scent.</p><p>  Klik savored the aroma for a moment, before biting into a length of intestine. It burst in her mouth perfectly.</p><p>  As she looked up, Klik noticed that the cook was watching Venka as she waited at the other stall. Catching Klik’s gaze, he turned back to her. “Hey, uh… Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he muttered. “You’re actually taking care of that kid, huh?”</p><p>  She regarded him silently, and then nodded human-style and continued to eat.</p><p>  “Does she have family?”</p><p>  “No.” Klik paused, considering her words carefully as she gobbled down the rest of her food. She licked her teeth. “Will finding place. Safe place.”</p><p>  “What, like an orphanage?” Receiving a curious head-tilt, he elaborated. “It’s, uh, a place for kids who don’t have anyone to take care of them. The adults there make sure they get what they need, and try find their family, if they still have any. Or put them with a new one, otherwise.”</p><p>  An eager <em>chrr-chrr-kraa</em> bubbled up from her throat, and she hopped up to the counter. “Yes, yes, yes!” she tittered. “Where is <em>or-fin-eej?</em>”</p><p>* * *</p><p>  Port Joy’s high-walled buildings and shaded streets made their walk a pleasant one. The orphanage, as the cook had explained, lay to the east of the town square, through an older residential area. Klik kept a leisurely pace; her legs were much longer than Venka’s, and the nestling was still eating. Venka had bought some manner of dough-wrapped food with her tokens, and seemed quite happy with it. As she finished and wiped her mouth on her arm, Klik held out an elote.</p><p>  “This for Venka.” The cook had given her one of the skewers (“for the kid”) at no charge, and Klik did not readily turn down free food.</p><p>  Venka accepted it and nibbled at the treat. About halfway through, she stopped and looked up at Klik. “Do you want the rest?”</p><p>  “<em>Qurrokk?</em>”</p><p>  “My parents said it’s good to share,” she said. “You should have some, too. If you want.”</p><p>  Klik gave a chatter of <em>tik-ik-ik</em> and shuffle-danced her appreciation. “Such thanking!”</p><p>  To freely share food with another when one had little of their own was true generosity. She hadn’t known that humans taught their young such virtues. Perhaps she had underestimated their species.</p><p>  Klik accepted the elote gratefully and sank her teeth into it. The outer coating was a mixture of a melted fat, a savory substance—<em>cheese</em>, she thought it was called—and spicy and sour seasonings, while the vegetable beneath was sweet yet salty. Tearing off a chunk from the end, she found that the interior of the elote was delightfully crunchy. It was transcendent. Klik gobbled down the rest in three ravenous bites.</p><p>  “I don’t think you’re supposed to eat it whole,” Venka said, watching her.</p><p>  “Why? Is taste good.”</p><p>  Venka watched her for a moment with unusual scrutiny. “What do you like to be called? I never asked.”</p><p>  She muttered a baffled croak and turned her head to look down at the nestling. “Am Klik.”</p><p>  “But are you a he or a she or a they? That cook called you ‘it,’ but I don’t want to do that, unless that’s what you like. It’s rude to assume that sort of thing,” she said. With a particular certainty, Venka added, “But it’s never rude to ask.”</p><p>  She didn’t think Venka had ever been quite so talkative all at once.It was something of a relief to know that she could be, when she wished. While Klik didn’t particularly care how humans referred to her, it was suddenly important to Venka, and that was enough.</p><p>  “Am <em>she</em>,” Klik answered as they walked. At least, that was the most useful word. Kig-Yar defined themselves to others by the manner in which they spoke. In Een-lish, however, others assigned a designation to you with their speech, whether they knew you or not; it seemed a rather impractical system.</p><p>  “Oh, so you’re a girl?”</p><p>  “No. Not girl. Not <em>human</em>,” she replied. “Am <em>ktet-we</em>.”</p><p>  “What’s a ket-way?”</p><p>  Now that was going to be more difficult to explain. She didn’t have much vocabulary in this language for social concepts. “<em>Ktet-we</em>,” Klik said after some thought, “is one kind of way to being for Kig-Yars.”</p><p>  “Are there a lot?”</p><p>  She hadn’t expected that such things would be of interest to a nestling, since adult humans hardly seemed to care, but Venka was watching her with great curiosity. She clacked her beak softly. It might be good to share a little cultural insight before Venka went back to her own species. Perhaps the rest of them could learn something.</p><p>  “Yes, many. Kig-Yars having six plus more kinds.”</p><p>  Before Venka could ask any more questions, a shrill screech cut through the air and caught their attention. Klik fluffed out her feathers, alert, and put a hand on Venka’s shoulder as she turned toward the source of the cry. Across the street, a troop of humans were running across a large wooden structure.</p><p>  Klik was familiar with many human noises. Even more than their many kinds of speech, she knew the sounds that humans made when they were enraged, when they were wounded—and especially when they were terrified. She watched and listened carefully, and gradually realized that these humans were nestlings. Some of their’ shrieks and chirps sounded almost like fright or pain, but their behavior made it clear that these were cries of joy. They were playing.</p><p>  The nestlings were romping through an open yard, full of odd structures, while a pair of adults observed. To the immediate left of the yard was a large building with shiny human letters above its doorway. Klik looked down at the map and compared the shapes of the letters drawn on it to those on the building. Beside her, Venka watched the other humans with rapt attention.</p><p>  Klik crouched down beside her. “Venka want to doing plays?”</p><p>  She nodded eagerly.</p><p>  “Okay. Am going there,” she said, pointing to the building’s door, “while Venka doing plays.”</p><p>  The nestling’s enthusiasm faded suddenly. “H-how long will you be gone?”</p><p>  “Short time only.”</p><p>  “And you’ll come back?”</p><p>  “Yes.”</p><p>  Water welled at the corners of her eyes.</p><p>  “Hey.” She straightened Venka’s robe and brushed some of the dust from its sleeves, with an affectionate chortle. “Is <em>promise</em>.”</p><p>  That seemed to satisfy her. Venka threw her arms around Klik’s shoulders, embracing her tightly, then scampered off across the street to join the other humans.</p><p>  Klik walked over to the main doors of the building, but paused a moment on the step to watch Venka. Someof the other humans approached the nestling as she entered the yard, and after a few words and smiles, they all ran off together. Satisfied, Klik pushed through the doors and stepped into the lobby.</p><p>  It was a brightly-lit space with large windows, and walls adorned with strange, alien symbols and human paw printsin bright colors. Squishy-looking cubes, about knee-high to her, were placed around the room and she wondered if they were art pieces or served some other purpose. On a table near the door stood a small display that cycled images of smiling human nestlings with smiling human adults, and a lot of text in various scripts. At the other end of the lobby a pair of real humans stood conversing behind a desk.</p><p>  “Okay, now where do I enter the receipts?”</p><p>  “Right here. See the icon at the top?”</p><p>  “This green thingy?”</p><p>  “No, the one beside it. The blue plus sign.”</p><p>  Klik strolled up to the desk as the two humans fussed over their computer. Her talons clicked faintly on the tile floor with each step, and as she drew closer, the shorter and rounder of the two pushed a shank of long, orange fur out of their face and looked up. Quietly, they tugged at the sleeve of the other.</p><p>  “Hello.” For the briefest moment, Klik thought about attempting a smile, but quickly dismissed the idea. She wanted to make a <em>good</em> impression, this time. She settled instead for giving a human-style wave. “This is <em>or-fin-eej</em>, yes?”</p><p>  The other human—a tall, thin one with glasses—looked up and greeted her with a broad smile. “Oh, yes! Yes, this is the Shirazi Children’s Home. You’re here for the delivery, right? Give me a moment to pull up the forms.”</p><p>  Before Klik could respond, the shorter human leaned over the desk and asked, “Where’s Tul? Is he out sick?”</p><p>  “Wait,” the taller one interjected. “This isn’t the usual Kig-Yar?”</p><p>  “Nope. Tul’s feathers are different. Never seen this bird, before.”</p><p>  The tall human looked back to Klik, albeit nervously, now. “If you, erm, aren’t here for the delivery, then what’re… Uh, that is, how can I help you?” they asked. More evenly, they added, “I’m Asha, and this is Katie—one of our kids. They’re assisting me, today.”</p><p>  For a “kid,” Katie seemed much more like the adult humans Klik had seen, thought their voice and proportions were different. Clearly, this one was a<em>mik’ti</em> human. That, she decided, meant she was definitely in the right place.</p><p>  “Am Klik,” she replied cheerily. “Am here to helps of human childs.”</p><p>  “Pardon?”</p><p>  Katie grinned up at Asha. “Wants to eat one, probably.”</p><p>  Asha glared back.</p><p>  “Am bringing childs, name of Venka. Is needing home,” Klik said, raising her voice slightly to maintain their attention. She trotted over to the window and pointed out Venka from among the other nestlings. “Venka outside, now. Doing plays.”</p><p>  “Katie, can you go check on that?” Asha asked, watching Klik with thinly-veiled apprehension.</p><p>  The mik’ti sighed heavily, lolling their head a bit. “Yeah, sure,” they said, and slipped out through a door past the desk.</p><p>  “We, uh, don’t see aliens helping human children too often,” said Asha. “Or at all, really.”</p><p>  <em>I don’t see humans helping Kig-Yar children too often, either,</em> Klik thought bemusedly as she watched out the window. Venka was clambering over the wooden structure with the other children, teeth bared in a wide smile, as she ran and chased with her new playmates. For the first time since they met, Venka looked truly happy and unworried.</p><p>  “Yeah, she’s here,” Katie said, stepping back inside. “David said he saw her hugging a Jackal earlier, so… I guess this is legit.”</p><p>  Asha looked at them for a long moment, and each of the two humans made a series of quick but subtle expressions and eye movements. Klik waited patiently. Whatever they were communicating to each other, they either didn’t wish to share or simply didn’t think to include her in the conversation.</p><p>  “Okay. I will just… go talk to the director, then! If you’ll just wait shortly, Mr.— Uh, Klik, was it?”</p><p>  While Asha disappeared through another door, Katie shuffled over to the waiting area of the lobby and flopped down onto one of the squishy cubes. Klik raised her crest in mild surprise. Furniture was the one thing she hadn’t expected those objects to be.</p><p>  “Dunno why she bothered asking. She knows what the answer’s gonna be,” Katie muttered.</p><p>  Klik turned to them with a tilt of her head and an inquisitive croak.</p><p>  “Forget it,” the <em>mik’ti</em> sighed.</p><p>  She moved back to the window, watching as the nestlings kick a large ball back and forth among themselves. On her turn, Venka ran up for a kick, but lost her footing and slipped. Klik let out a startled wok, pressing her hands to the glass. Before she could make for the door, however, two of Venka’s playmates had rushed over to help her up, and one of the adults approached to check on her. Venka stood and dusted herself off as she spoke to them, smiling and obviously unhurt, then returned to the game.</p><p>  This was what she needed. She would be safe here with other humans, and most of all—<em>happy</em>.</p><p>  “Hey.” Klik turned to see Katie eyeing her curiously. “Do you <em>really</em> eat humans?”</p><p>  “No.”</p><p>  “Ever?”</p><p>  “No.”</p><p>  “Huh.” They tugged at the strings of their jacket idly. “Is that pattern on your face like… a mask? Other kinds of Jackals don’t have that.”</p><p>  “Is—” Klik paused, wracking her brain for the word. “Bone.” <em>Close enough.</em></p><p>  “That’s pretty metal.”</p><p>  “No, is <em>bone</em>.”</p><p>  They laughed. “Right. You ever get mad you can’t fly?”</p><p>  “Can fly, yes. In ship,” Klik replied. Before the human could get in another question, she parried with one of her own. “Katie living here?”</p><p>  “Yup.”</p><p>  “Katie like?”</p><p>  They were quiet for a moment. “No. Not really.” Katie sighed again. “I mean, it beats being on the street, you know? They try to take good care of us. It’s just…” Seeing Asha return, Katie heaved themself up from the cube. “Never mind. I gotta go do my homework. Good luck with your stuff, or whatever.”</p><p>  As Katie departed, Klik eagerly trotted up to meet Asha. “Having nest and toys of Venka. Should bringing these, yes.”</p><p>  “Ah— No. You… You don’t need to do that.” She averted her gaze. “I am very sorry, but we can’t accept any more children right now.”</p><p>  For a moment, Klik could only stare. It was a mistake. It must be a mistake. “No. No, no, no. Venka is needing home! Or-fin-eej must help!”</p><p>  “I’m sorry. We can’t.”</p><p>  She had seen this before; it was standard operating procedure across much of the galaxy. Low-ranked employees would woefully report that a request couldn’t be granted, but if you preened their feathers, they’d preen yours. She took out a chip.</p><p>  “Have gekz, have credits. How many money to taking Venka?”</p><p>  “You don’t understand,” Asha said, taking a step back. “We’re already <em>over</em> capacity. There’s no more room.”</p><p>  Klik ruffled her feathers and clacked her beak, trying to calm herself. “Venka just one child! Must taking Venka!” she pleaded.</p><p>  Slowly, Asha moved back behind the desk. “This facility is only set up to house seventy-five children, and we have more than twice that.We are out of space for them to sleep, and we’re barely keeping all these kids fed,” she said, her voice growing more firm. “I am sincerely, <em>deeply</em> sorry that we can’t help Venka. But you’ll have to try somewhere else.”</p><p>  “Where? Where else?!”</p><p>  “I… I don’t know. All the other children’s homes on Binterall are full, and the colonies we trade with aren’t doing any better.” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Humans didn’t have the benefit of a… <em>covenant</em> to protect our children.”</p><p>  Defeated, Klik turned without a sound, and made her way outside to the yard. <em>The Covenant never protected anyone’s children,</em> she thought bitterly.</p><p>  She found Venka sitting atop the wooden structure, kicking her legs idly. The other humans had all returned inside, leaving her alone in the afternoon shade. Klik leapt up beside her in one motion, and sat down.</p><p>  “You came back,” Venka said.</p><p>“Yes. <em>Promised</em>.” Klik seldom promised anything to anyone, but when she did, she kept her word. It had always been her intention to return—to say good-bye, if nothing else. She inclined her head. “Venka haved fun? Good plays?”</p><p>  The nestling nodded. “Are we going back to the ship?”</p><p>  “When you ready, yes.”</p><p>  Venka leaned further over the railing, letting her arms dangle. “I didn’t wanna stay here, anyway.”</p><p>  There was so much she wanted to say, with no way to say it. Klik moved nearer and extended an arm over her, letting silence settle on them like dust.</p><p>  <em>I’ll find where you belong</em>. <em>Somehow</em>.</p><p>  The door of the orphanage creaked, and Klik turned her head to see Asha strolling over to them. She stopped at the base of the structure and looked up curiously.</p><p>  “You must be Venka,” she said to the nestling. “Your friends said you aren’t feeling well. You get tired a lot. Is that right?”</p><p>  Venka pulled her arms further back into the sleeves of her robe, hiding the spots on her skin, but nodded.</p><p>  “I have some medicine that will help. I’ll give it to your friend, Klik, okay?” Asha stood up on her toes and handed over a small bottle. “Have her take one pill a day, until the bottle is empty. She’ll recover soon.”</p><p>  Klik accepted the bottle carefully, and tucked it into her bag. “Such thanking, Asha.”</p><p>  The human smiled—sadly, she thought—and walked back inside the orphanage.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Asha has seen a lot of scurvy cases among the war orphans they've taken in.</p><p> </p><p>Big thanks yet again to my pal <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotDogHowitzer/pseuds/HotDogHowitzer">HotDogHowitzer</a> for helping me out on this one, and to my wonderful editor/beta reader, Hellcat!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">  Another planet, another mistake, another dead end. Binterall had been her best idea, and that—along with all of its neighbor colonies—had turned out to be an empty fruit. Klik rolled the arum around in her hands carefully, examining it once more. She had learned long ago how to make peace with failure, but this time she couldn’t shake it off. This was different. She wasn’t used to failing someone else. She wasn’t used to someone relying on her in the first place.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik slipped the arum back into her pack, and turned to <em>Calamity’s</em> console. They were still in slipspace, half a day out from Unza’u, and she needed something to distract her thoughts besides the endless void surrounding the ship. She cycled through the media she had stored, muttering a resigned <em>kurr-rr-rr</em> to herself, when a soft patter of footsteps drew her attention. She glanced away from the holodisk to see Venka climbing up into the co-pilot’s seat beside her.</p>
<p class="western">  “<em>Resh’te</em>,” she said, reflexively.</p>
<p class="western">  Venka blinked at her, inclining her head in an almost kig-yar fashion. “<em>Rush-tay?</em>”</p>
<p class="western">  “Hello,” Klik amended. “Venka don’t sleeping?”</p>
<p class="western">  “’M not tired,” the nestling muttered, rubbing the heels of her little paws at her eyes.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik pointed to the seat’s harness. “Must doing safety, if Venka staying here. Yes?” She couldn’t remember what humans called the device.</p>
<p class="western">  The nestling gave a nod and she fastened the harness, then settled back into the copilot’s seat. Klik returned to browsing her media, and finally settled on an instructional holo. These were always relaxing, even if she had seen them before. She loaded it and the program materialized in the holoprojector, showing a scene of two Kig-Yar in front of an old-fashioned outdoor stove.</p>
<p class="western">  “What’s this?” Venka piped up.</p>
<p class="western">  “Is holo of making a food.”</p>
<p class="western">  Her eyes flitted across the hologram, all keen curiosity. “What are they saying? Is that the Covenant language?”</p>
<p class="western">  Klik suppressed a laugh. Briefly, she wondered if Venka spoke from childish ignorance or if humans as a whole didn’t know there was a difference. “This being one kind of Kig-Yar talk,” she answered plainly. “Is T’vao talk.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Tuh… Ta-vay-ow?” Venka repeated, haltingly. She looked to Klik, awaiting confirmation.</p>
<p class="western">  “T’vao,” Klik repeated more slowly, making sure to emphasize each phoneme.</p>
<p class="western">  Venka gave it a few more tries, the initial consonant seemingly the most difficult for her, but finally she managed to approximate it.</p>
<p class="western">  “Such good,” Klik replied encouragingly.</p>
<p class="western">  Venka beamed. She turned her attention back to the holodisk, watching as the hosts laid out the ingredients. She pointed at the main feature of the dish. “That looks like a bug.”</p>
<p class="western">  “<em>Is</em> bug. Very taste,” Klik replied. She gestured between the two hosts, as one prepared a pot of boiling oil. “He is showing how to cooking <em>gep-mav</em>.”</p>
<p class="western">  The nestling watched intently as the creature was prepared, seasoned, and fried. She asked questions often, wondering after unfamiliar ingredients or the conversation between the hosts; Klik patiently answered each query. It surprised her that Venka had taken such an interest in the holo.</p>
<p class="western">  As the program drew to a close, Klik stood from the pilot’s seat and retrieved some food. Thinking about a hot plate of <em>gep-mav</em> had made her hungry, and she was certain that Venka could stand to eat, as well. She made two wraps of meat and fruit in <em>riqa</em>, and gave one to Venka.</p>
<p class="western">  Before the nestling could begin eating, Klik held out a hand and offered a pill from the bottle Asha had given her. “Taking one medicine, first.”</p>
<p class="western">  Venka wrinkled her nose, but accepted. She took a drink, swallowed it, and then began eating her wrap without complaint.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik sat back down in the pilot’s chair, falling into thought as she tore into her own wrap. The little human had been absolutely enraptured with the cooking show, and Klik realized that the subject likely wasn’t quite as important at the novelty. She could keep Venka’s belly full, but her mind was hungry, too. Children needed learning for their growing brains, and play for their growing bodies. They also needed emotional security, not just physical safety. At least, that’s what <em>Kig-Yar</em> children needed. Klik could only assume that human young had similar needs. Until she could find a new home for Venka, it was up to her to provide that.</p>
<p class="western">  She flattened her crest feathers. Aside from two brief (and very stressful) outings, Venka had been cooped up in the ship with nothing to do. The poor thing was probably bored enough to peck rocks. Klik paused the holo, and tilted her head to better meet the nestling’s eyes.</p>
<p class="western">  “You want to learning an talk?”</p>
<p class="western">  The fur above Venka’s eyes scrunched together. “I know how to talk.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Een-lish talk, yes yes. But! Perhaps an talk of Kig-Yar? Can teaching this, yes.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Oh!” She flashed her teeth, and Klik had to remind herself once again that this was <em>usually</em> a good sign from a human. “Okay!”</p>
<p class="western">  “Good. Doing baby word first. Am remembering, Venka <em>not</em> baby,” she added quickly. “But. Start learning with most baby word. Yes?”</p>
<p class="western">  She nodded eagerly.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik chortled and reached over to hold Venka’s paw, gently splaying out her fingers. “You learning number, now. Number important.” She held up her own hand in the same position. “First is <em>yat</em>.”</p>
<p class="western">  “<em>Yaht</em> means one?” Venka asked.</p>
<p class="western">  “No. <em>Yat</em> being this.” Klik pointed to Venka’s open paw, then lifted her own empty hand again. “And this.”</p>
<p class="western">  “But we have different fingers, so— Maybe it’s—? No, that’s not right…” The nestling trailed off, her mouth drawn into a thin line.</p>
<p class="western">  “What you thinking?”</p>
<p class="western">  She lowered her gaze suddenly, as if she felt she had misbehaved. Klik couldn’t imagine why. “I dunno,” Venka muttered. “I’m probably wrong.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Is okay to being wrong. Everyone wrong so many time when learning!” Klik said, leaning over to bump her snout against Venka’s shoulder. “Trying more important.”</p>
<p class="western">  Venka dropped her paws into her lap and stared down at them silently. Without looking up, she asked, “Does <em>yaht</em> mean ‘nothing?’”</p>
<p class="western">  “Yes, yes! You understanding now,” Klik chortled happily. “Venka is very good to try!”</p>
<p class="western">  For a moment, she only stared, eyes growing glassy and wet as if she might cry. Venka turned quickly and rubbed her eyes, leaving them reddened but dry. She muttered something that Klik didn’t quite catch, then asked, “Okay. What’s next?”</p>
<p class="western">  Klik held her hand up as before, then slowly folded her thumb against her palm. “<em>Kam.</em>”</p>
<p class="western">  Venka mimicked her easily. “Kam.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Good, good.” She folded in her first finger. “<em>Wau</em>.”</p>
<p class="western">  “<em>Wow-oo</em>,” Venka said, her vowels slightly off as she made the same gesture.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik folded her last finger down. “<em>Re’i</em>.”</p>
<p class="western">  “<em>Ray-ee</em>.” Venka looked at her fingers, then back to Klik. “That’s one, two, and three? Right?”</p>
<p class="western">  “Yes. Now you can counting like Kig-Yar.”</p>
<p class="western">  Venka leaned forward in her seat, excitement in her posture and a broad smile on her face. It reminded Klik of watching her young cousins during her <em>mik’ti</em> years, and the eagerness they had for learning. She remembered clearly the summer heat and the faint buzz of insects, as she held one of the nestlings in her arms and watched her aunt gently fold the child’s fingers.</p>
<p class="western">  <em>&lt;Watch what I do,&gt;</em> she had said to both of them, showing her child how to count, and showing Klik how to teach.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik continued Venka’s lesson, and soon the nestling was counting from <em>kam</em> to <em>nish</em> with her fingers. Whenever she faltered in recalling a word, she would pause, look to Klik, and then try to enunciate it. She was right more often than not, and when she wasn’t, she tried again.</p>
<p class="western">  Despite the fun she was having with her new skill, Venka’s eyelids were slowly growing heavy. She yawned, tried to hide it behind her paws, then yawned wider.</p>
<p class="western">  “Learning done now,” Klik announced gently. She stood up from her seat, unbuckled Venka’s harness, and scooped her up. “You sleeping.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Wha— No!” Venka protested as Klik deposited her back into the nest. “I- I can stay up! I’m not tired.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Yes. You <em>am</em>.”</p>
<p class="western">  Klik gently bonked her snout against Venka’s forehead, and the unsteady nestling fell back into the blankets. Venka didn’t try to sit up again, but she did contort her face into an expression that Klik thought must be a pout.</p>
<p class="western">  “I wanna do more…” she whined, fighting sleep even as she spoke.</p>
<p class="western">  “Sleeping now,” Klik instructed, and began tucking her in. “Will teaching later again, okay.”</p>
<p class="western">  “Ohhh-kaaay,” Venka sighed, drawing out the two syllables as far as she could. She grabbed her kotteb toy, nuzzling into its mane, and quickly drifted off.</p>
<p class="western">* * * *</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus was waiting for her.</p>
<p class="western">  The Jiralhanae stood a stone’s throw from <em>Calamity’s</em> hatch, feet planted firmly against the docking bay floor with the head of his gravity hammer between them, and his hands crossed over its pommel. With his iron-colored fur and armor, he looked like some great monument; only the blinking of his red eyes gave him away as a living creature. All those coming and going through the docking bay gave him a wide berth.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik strolled down the ramp of her ship, cool and collected, and closed the hatch behind her. She ignored the way his narrowed eyes seared into her, and stopped just in front of him.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Domitarus! Imagine seeing you here,&gt; she said, craning her neck up to meet his gaze. &lt;How are things?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;You’re late.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  She turned to stroll past him. &lt;Nonsense. I arrive exactly when I mean to.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  A rough hand caught her by the collar of her armor and jerked her back. Klik gave a startled squawk and, at the same time, wondered why she hadn’t expected this sort of treatment by now.</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus leaned down, his snout just a hand’s breadth from her face, and began to sniff at her. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, as a low growl rattled in his throat. &lt;What are you hiding?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Klik squinted and turned away as his hot breath hit her face. &lt;Hiding? When have I ever—&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;I’d recognize that stench anywhere. Why do you smell like a <em>human?</em>&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  <em>Rocks-for-brains,</em> Klik scolded herself, <em>how could you forget?</em> She hadn’t scrubbed down before leaving the ship. Scrambling, she latched onto a reply. &lt;My job takes me a lot of interesting places. Interesting and <em>confidential</em> places, which I’m sure you can understand.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;No. No, this is fresh.&gt; He stood up and sniffed the air. With a low growl, Domitarus picked up his hammer and began stalking toward <em>Calamity</em>. &lt;Where is it?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Klik hopped after him, inserting herself into his personal space to force his attention back. &lt;Is there a rule against it?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;…What?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Is there a <em>rule</em> against humans coming aboard Unza’u? Or at least being in the docking bay?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  He paused for a long moment, teeth grinding as he tightened his grip on the hammer. &lt;I... suppose not.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Glad we could sort that out.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  As she turned to move, he poked her in the shoulder, causing her to stumble back half a step. &lt;<em>Why</em> do you have a human with you?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Klik croaked two low notes. &lt;A different contract. Good <em>rehathi</em> always diversify their income, you know. Any further details would be a breach of client confidentiality.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus began to speak again, but she cut him off.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;<em>Yes</em>, I could be paid to overlook that—and <em>no</em>, you can't afford my fee.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  His lips curled back over his fangs. &lt;Very well, but I’m watching you. If you’re lying—&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;You’ll squish me with your hammer. I get it.&gt; She reached out and patted his arm. &lt;I know how much you want to use that hammer. I would, too.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Klik made her way through the busy promenade with a light step, and Domitarus followed. She kept her head high and her feathers relaxed as if the Jiralhanae was her personal security escort, and not a quiet threat looming in her shadow. When they reached Nune’s office, he finally took the lead, clipping his hammer to the back of his armor as he opened the security iris. He took a step toward her, and Klik hopped through the iris before he had the chance to shove her into the room.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Thank you so much for accompanying me, Domitarus,&gt; she said coolly as they entered the office. &lt;You do a splendid job of keeping the riffraff off this station.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Apparently, I don’t do enough,&gt; he snorted in her face, blowing her crest feathers askew. &lt; <em>You</em> keep coming back.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">   Klik chose not to dignify that with a reply—least of all because she couldn’t think of a good one. She smoothed out her crest and turned to Nune.</p>
<p class="western">  The Sangheili wore blue robes this time, adorned with shiny green embroidery, and stood tending to a flowering vine. &lt;Kliq Roq. I trust you have some good news for me?&gt; she asked, still focused on her plant.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Lady ‘Karalak.&gt; Klik gave a dip of her head, then retrieved a tied cloth bundle from her pack and held it up. &lt;I have—&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  A massive grey hand reached down and plucked the bundle from Klik’s grasp. Domitarus unwrapped it, sniffed at it, then lumbered over and handed it to Nune. Her hand lingered on his affectionately as she accepted the arum.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Thank you, my dear,&gt; Nune said to him, clicking her mandibles.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik drummed her talons against the floor. &lt;One arum,&gt; she interjected, &lt;as promised.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Nune took a seat at her console and began examining the arum’s surface with deep concentration. After a few moments, she placed it on the matching display—deliberately trying, Klik noticed, not to give the object any further attention. She wouldn’t want to do anything that might tip off Klik to its real value, but it was certain that she would open the arum the moment she was alone. Klik displayed similar disinterest; it was best if Nune continued to think its contents remained secret.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Not a new scratch on it. I appreciate that,&gt; she said. Nune reclined in her chair and clasped her hands together. &lt;Now, what about Khet ‘Vrath? How did you deal with him?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  In a show of nonchalance, Klik preened a stray feather from her arm. &lt;First, I told him who had sent me. Then I maimed him and slashed out one of his eyes.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  ‘Vrath’s injuries were nothing that a good doctor or even a half-decent autosurgeon couldn’t repair; Klik had known that when she inflicted them. What she had really done, besides leaving ‘Vrath in immense pain, was to force him to make a choice. He could endure his injuries and never again wield a sword, or he could suffer the humiliation of accepting medical treatment.</p>
<p class="western">  Nune gave a wicked smile. She understood the implication. &lt;You really do deliver.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;You paid for results.&gt; Klik fluffed her feathers slightly and gave a gracious croak. As much as she appreciated the compliment, praise didn’t pay bills or put food in her stores. She only had so much patience for flattery without gekz to back it up.</p>
<p class="western">  Thankfully, Nune didn’t have much patience for idle chatter, either. She swiped a hand across her console and its surface glowed, revealing a keypad. She typed something out quickly, and Klik’s data module chirped with the sound of a successful deposit.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;That’s the remainder of your payment, along with the bonus I promised,&gt; she said. &lt;I’ll keep your services in mind, next time I need to send a message. It’s been a pleasure.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Lady ‘Karalak, before you close your ledgers, I have something else that might be of use to you.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus snorted in annoyance, but Nune laid a placating hand on his arm. &lt;Go on.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;It’s fireside gossip,&gt; Klik said, eyeing her cautiously, &lt;but I thought you’d still want to hear it.&gt; Being so forthright about the quality of her information was a gamble, but it was better than dealing with an angry client.</p>
<p class="western">  Nune clicked her mandibles in sequence, thinking. &lt;Two hundred fifty gekz.&gt;  </p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Agreed.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  That was more than she had expected. Evidently, Domitarus felt the same.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Really? For <em>gossip?</em>&gt; he muttered.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Our associate has provided satisfactory results so far,&gt; said Nune, initiating another transfer. &lt;I don’t mind spending a bit of pocket money to hear what she has to say.&gt; There was another deposit tone, and she motioned for Klik to continue.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;While I was tailing ‘Vrath, I heard some other Sangheili speak of your husband.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus crossed his arms over his chest, glowering. Nune merely sighed and closed her keyboard. &lt;Have they found his body?&gt; she asked placidly.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;They said he’s alive.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Nune curled her mandibles inward stiffly. As she moved to speak, Domitarus leapt forward, unslinging his hammer. With one lightning motion, he pinned Klik against the wall with it.</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Do you think this is <em>funny</em>, scavenger?!&gt; he roared.</p>
<p class="western">  Klik clawed at the floor, trying futilely to gain enough purchase to slip away. Although she couldn’t move, he wasn’t crushing her—<em>yet</em>. &lt;I-I’m just telling you what I heard!&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  He snarled, still holding Klik in place with the hammer, then turned to look back at Nune. &lt;Darling?&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus stepped back, lowering his hammer. Relieved, Klik sank to the floor and sat, not caring if it looked a bit undignified. &lt;I heard it in a war camp.&gt; She relayed how she had tracked ‘Vrath and his associates to Khael’mothka, the religious fervor among the drunken warriors, and the officer who claimed to have seen Vys ‘Karalak alive. &lt;I hung around as long as I could, but no one mentioned him again. I don’t know if any of them were or still are in contact with him.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;I see,&gt; Nune replied.</p>
<p class="western">  Domitarus stood at her side, his red eyes gentle as he gazed down at her in concern. &lt;Darling,&gt; he murmured, taking one of her hands in his gently. &lt;Are you alright?&gt;  </p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Yes. Yes, I’m fine, dearest.&gt; She closed her eyes briefly, and her mandibles eased into a relaxed posture. She looked back at Klik. &lt;Thank you for bringing this information to me. This is… This is good news.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  Klik stood, hoping she didn’t look as shaky as she felt, and cocked her head uncertainly. &lt;I’m glad to be of service.&gt;</p>
<p class="western">  &lt;Now,&gt; Nune said, composing herself, &lt;I can kill that bastard myself.&gt;</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Big thanks to Hellcat and HotDogHowitzer, as always!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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